There's something about Mary
by greyandgrey
Summary: Another odd sequel to Pride and Prejudice, Marycentred, showing the adventures of the Bennets as they try to cope with the twists and turns of their new situation. The title might ring a bell...
1. Chapter 1

**_I've made some small changes which I hope will not upset anyone, but it was more convenient (in my story) for Mr. Bingley to have an estate in Kent, rather than Derbyshire as in the book. Thank you in advance. _**

There's something about Mary

Chapter 1: Arrival

Mary darted her eyes towards Kitty's slouched figure. The girl was positioned in such a way as to reveal her dreamful state, her eyes glowing serenely and her mouth slightly curved.

'And as it was God's will, the Holy Spirit was endowed to those who led the path of faith and labour, in continuing His works…' Mary read on.

Kitty sighed and pressed her head further against the window frame.

'You aren't really listening, are you Catherine?' the other sister said half-amused.

Some minutes passed in silence before Kitty raised her head and looked at her sister.

'Where do you think Lydia is now, Mary? What do you think she is doing?'

Mary paused to reflect.

'I suppose she must find herself in the company of her…most agreeable husband, already nursing after him, preparing his boots and lace and duly having a supply of warm clothes for the harsh lands of Newcastle.'

Kitty looked at her half-lost in thought herself.

'She is lucky…is she not?' she inquired at last.

'Whatever for?' Mary asked smiling.

Kitty got up and walked around the room, arranging her ribbons.

'What do you mean? She is almost sixteen and already married to a respectable and handsome gentleman. Even the whole scandal of her elopement has been forgotten and forgiven. Other young ladies that are as headstrong as her do not end up having the same merry fate.'

'The same merry fate? Respectable gentleman?' Mary chided her ironically. 'Kitty, if he were half the man you believe him to be, he wouldn't have convinced Lydia to run away with him, being perfectly aware of the dreadful consequences that followed. He had no respect for Lydia in that. He may be handsome, but depend upon it, with such habits as his, his good features won't hold out long.'

Kitty frowned.

'You may have your right in this…but he's not all bad…' she said weakly. 'For one thing, I pity Lydia, though.'

Mary waited for her answer, putting aside her book of sermons.

'I am sorry for her, because she will soon realise her life won't be much easy, considering Mr. Wickham is such a comfortable character. She will have to stand all the work of a housemaid.'

Mary did not know how to consider such bold a reply, but when she saw Kitty smiling peevishly, she realised her sister rejoiced in the prospect of Lydia's vanity being let up an inch or two.

'What a sly sister I have!' Mary said trying to cover her own smile.

Kitty only giggled and jumped on the bed throwing a pillow at Mary.

'I shall have none of that,' Mary said, but consequently threw the pillow back.

'Though I can't say I do not miss her, at times,' Kitty said hiding under her blanket and launching another pillow at Mary.

Her reply was muffled by trying to fight Kitty's attacks.

'And…I su-suppose the-se were your amusements…with h-her.'

'Not always, since we had to take great care of our hair.'

Kitty brought her knees to her chest as she watched Mary promptly clean the dishevelled beds and prepare them for a night's rest.

'Are you going to bed so early?'

'No, I am practicing the skills Lydia shall soon need…' she said cynically.

Kitty looked at the dark sky and pouted loudly.

'I wish I were at a ball, dancing with a handsome lieutenant…or a wealthy duke, or a good-natured count…'

'I suppose the King hasn't asked you for a reel yet, or else I dare say you would have mentioned him also.'

'Oh, the King is far too old for me…By the by, I was shocked at mama's poor attempt at making Colonel Fitzwilliam a good match for me! I declare such jest as this I have never heard of!'

'Oh, yes. Why should you engage yourself to an honest and serious gentleman? Too tedious a business for you…' Mary replied.

As they both got into bed, the elder sister gently blew the candle, leaving them in the complete obscurity of the night.

'Mary?'

'Yes, Kitty?'

'Will…will I become a spinster like Miss Lucas?'

'Miss Lucas married Mr. Collins a long time ago,' she said quietly.

'I was meaning…well, will I reach the age of seven and twenty to be married?' she asked again sounding much distraught.

'Kitty, as much as I have no wish to encourage this…you have the same chance as your eldest sister to be married soon, what with your good nature and playful charms.'

'Do you really believe so? Even if father says I am rather silly in my ways?'

'He chides you so, because he cares greatly for you and does not wish you to resign your future to a ridiculous officer in a red cape.'

'But I would not mind…'

Mary chuckled. 'He would.'

Kitty turned silent and soon fell asleep. Mary decided she could indulge herself in such comfort only that, she was disturbed by the thought that from now on, Kitty was her responsibility.

The next morning brought news from Jane as the family was breakfasting silently this time, as only four members of the family were left now.

'Madam, a letter from Mrs. Bingley…' the servant said.

Mrs. Bennet grasped the letter firmly blessing her soul for such happy circumstances.

She opened the seal and started reading fast as she got up and started walking about the room.

'Oh! Bless the Lord again and again! Mr. Bennet!' she said rushing to her husband and showing him the letter.

'Read Mr. Bennet and smile with joy, you are to be a grandfather!'

Kitty dropped her spoon and with an excited giggle went by her father's side.

'Ah…your sister is determined to make me an old man before time…nevertheless, I shall use this as an excuse to lament about **my **poor nerves,' he said taking off his wife.

'Oh, Mr. Bennet, what a teasing man you are! How can you think of yourself at such moments? Jane is to be with child! Mr. Bingley must be so proud to have an heir which will of course secure his fortune.'

'Because that is his sole object indeed…' Mary said sarcastically biting into an apple.

'Oh, mama! She has pressed our coming there as an urgent matter! We must go, we will, will we not?' Kitty yelped gladly at the prospect of finding amusement in any other place than her own home.

'To be sure we will! I have been waiting for an opportunity such as this to see the new estate! Oh, poor Jane! How she wanted us to come and visit even before their home was ready… All the family shall go of course. We must attend Jane at once! Why, I would even stake that Mr. Bingley shall want to celebrate the event in the highest of ways,' Mrs. Bennet stated happily, not forgetting she still had two single daughters.

Kitty sprinted with joy across the room and started making plans for the journey ahead.

'I see that you are all in an uproar. Yet more about the chance of society than the birth of a grandchild,' Mr. Bennet said getting up and stirring towards his library.

Mrs. Bennet had already joined Kitty in her schemes and all that was left for Mary was to practice on her pianoforte.

She lingered as her fingers ran over the smooth surface of the keys.

'What is the use indeed…I am only adding more ridicule to my person…' she said turning away and going into the garden.

She looked at the clouds outside and wished Lizzie and Jane were here. Not that there was much conversation among the sisters, but at least she could bear the circumstances easier knowing that she was not alone in her conviction that Kitty and her mother were positively puerile. Then again, she was a great deal more, if, for such a long time, she had entreated the fancy of being a good musician or having any talent whatsoever.

It was only a matter of days before everything was ready for the long journey. Mr. Bennet felt very uneasy about this departure, as was his feeling in any sort of trip, but Mrs. Bennet could only feel justified in having no compassion for her husband.

Mr. Bingley, after much pursuance from Mr. Darcy, finally decided to part from his sister's watchful eye, leaving her to continue her existence on their father's estate, along with dear cousins and other siblings, who could only prove but delightful company for a woman well past her prime.

Charles had deemed it necessary to ask for Caroline's advice about purchasing a fitful home, yet the sour sister only proclaimed as she always did that no matter what house he became owner of, that estate should be as worthy and excellent as Pemberley Park. It seemed she still harboured some mad dreams concerning the Darcy estate.

Nevertheless, her brother considered her suggestion to be more than helpful and acting on a whim, decided upon building the house from scratch, in order to make it as alike as possible to his friend's home. He settled on the beautiful and picturesque region of Kent, since it had but few dwellings and the only worthy house was Rosings Park to which he hoped he wouldn't pay many visits, since Lady Catherine was not quite a favourite.

A year and a half passed until his schemes came true, but when the construction was complete, it appeared to be a most breath-taking likeness of Pemberley Park, a compliment given by Jane and expressed in one of her letters to her poor mama.

The Bennets had been most pleased to hear of Jane's new home which became Bingley Park. It was described as a most excellent and elegant house and the family looked forwards to seeing it for the very first time.

The carriage was settled to take them to Kent on a sunny Friday and Kitty could barely contain her excitement as she drove Mary mad with ideas and silly notions of entertainment.

Their journey, though rough and not extremely pleasant was tolerable, Mr. Bennet being engrossed in meditating upon the present situation and not uttering a word and Mary finding solace in an adventures novel, while Kitty and Mrs. Bennet gossiped the "dull" society of Kent which would of course be enriched with the occasion of Mrs. Bingley's pregnancy.

At length they arrived in Kent and could not possibly avoid stopping in to see Mr. Collins and Charlotte who were more than happy to see them, though Mr. Collins was more interested in telling them about the improvements done to the small church the past few months, all courtesy of Lady Catherine's benevolence.

Charlotte Lucas had more interesting news for the ladies and thus she shared her own account of it accordingly as they sat for tea.

'Oh, Mrs. Bennet, you will not believe me, but I've recently heard that the Huntington Park of Derbyshire has been purchased. It seems that a retired gentleman of five and forty has come all the way from Scotland to reside there. I've heard this from Lady Catherine herself, who proclaims to be a distant cousin of the mentioned gentleman's mother. Quite a peculiar thing that the gentleman has not yet visited Rosings Park...Perhaps he had not the time. All I know is that his name is Mr. Fowler.'

'Humph…an interesting account indeed, Mrs. Collins. Mr. Fowler, you say?' Mrs. Bennet inquired with interest. 'He seems a bit old of age.'

'Not at all, ma'am. Why, I believe he isn't even married, though he has retired from the militia.'

'Quite queer…he must be a solitary fellow.'

'Well, we expect…or, should I say, Lady Catherine expects him here soon.'

'Is he handsome?' Kitty asked rapidly.

'I couldn't know, but he is a most respectable man as I've heard.'

Kitty wrinkled her nose, such trifling nonsense not occupying much of her thoughts.

The Bennets parted from the Collins with a hint of relief, for even though their visit had consisted of only two full hours, it had seemed two full decades.

Mary felt weary and irritated as she looked out the carriage, across the fields, into the brilliant sun. She didn't much enjoy sunshine, but what else could she do but look at the nature since Kitty and her mother had already started gossiping about the new gentleman?

As they passed slopes and firs, moors and meadows in an interminable slow trot, they noticed an opening of woods between the emerald hills and could only guess they were exceedingly close now.

And indeed, after five miles of driving, they reached the Park gates. It was indeed a most uncommonly beautiful house, with large, delicate windows which opened into a garden glazed with cherry trees and poplars. The walls seemed as old as time and as noble as the Saxons, even though everything was new and lavishing.

The interior of the house was as modest as Jane could allow it, as fine tapestries and oddly decorated urns and sculptures adorned the halls and spacious chambers. None of it was tasteless…all decorations were either subtle or delicate. Colours of lavender and white were to be found all around the house and large, wooden tables with heavy business books never to be much read stood in corners or in comfortable drawing rooms.

Upon seeing Jane the entire family shared a moment of most intimate delight, embraces and kisses being delivered accordingly between daughter and lost relatives. Mrs. Bennet was still in raptures over the beautiful estate and could only bless Jane's luck, but Mr. Bennet had already had the decency to address Mr. Bingley some polite words of gratitude.

'Jane, I so do wish to see the gardens and the ball room, please!' Kitty squealed with delight.

'I would be most happy to oblige Kitty, but let us first get you well accommodated…'

'There will be time for that,' the younger sister chirruped.

'By the by Jane, this happy event calls for a worthy celebration,' Mrs. Bennet stated solemnly. 'Why, I was thinking on the way here that I would thoroughly enjoy such a feast.'

'Mama, perhaps Jane does not feel well enough for…' Mary started but was cut off by her younger sister.

'It would be a wonderful idea and I am sure Mr. Bingley wouldn't mind!'

Mr. Bingley had already followed Mr. Bennet in the library for a more substantial talk, though neither of them would engage in something similar to lecture.

'It shall be discussed Kitty,' Jane smiled sincerely, 'but now, let me show you your rooms.'

All three women followed more or less silent.

Mary did not feel comfortable and wanted to find solace somewhere alone, but unfortunately, that would have to wait until after dinner.

'And when is Lizzie to come?' Mrs. Bennet asked carelessly inspecting an embroidered cushion.

'Very soon, actually, it all depends on Mr. Darcy's business in town.'

'Oh, Jane, if Lizzie comes too then we'll be reunited, but for Lydia…What of her, sister?' Kitty inquired.

Jane's warm smile relished a bit as she reddened and turned to look out the window.

'I wrote to her a fortnight ago, but the answer she gave was quite feeble. She said she couldn't attend the joyful event, but could only wish me the greatest of happiness. Apparently, Mr. Wickham has been wounded in battle and she needs to be by his side constantly.'

'Wounded? What battle could that be? She never mentioned it to us.'

'She gave me no further information, but it seems she has fully taken the part of a loyal wife, which should be a most delightful thing for such a sweet girl as she is.'

Kitty giggled impertinently, but remembering the cause of her not being able to come, considerably soured.

'I do pity her, Mary, but you know…I still pity Wickham more,' she whispered when she passed her elder sister.

Mary shook her head, trying to understand such jealousy between sisters.

'But if almost all the family shall be here and a couple of more friends it would be most convenient to throw a ball!' Mrs. Bennet proclaimed with enthusiasm.

'I very much like the idea of it, mama, but I must allow for my husband's opinion in this.'

'Nay, I shouldn't think it to be uncertain that he will accept.'

'I dare hope so,' she smiled politely.

Jane took them to their separate apartments which were worthy of high praise, but unimaginably large for one person, thus it was established that Mary and Kitty were to sleep in the same room and share the same mahogany engraved drawer with beautiful swans drawn on its front.

Mrs. Bennet was to reside with Mr. Bennet close to the couple and a very comfortable bedroom it was, with little space to do anything else, but well enough for two people who did not spend a great deal of their time in that room.

Having assured everyone's comfortableness, Jane took the misses on a tour of the house and gardens, as promised.

Mary looked with awe at the wonderful nature surrounding the estate and even considered grinning when she saw a large pond some miles away from the house, but could not help the feeling of disappointment engulfing her when she discovered the library herself and noticed how poorly stocked it was.

She knew Jane and Charles weren't avid readers, but she had hoped a gentleman had honour enough to have a decent library. She sighed and left the room.

Upon descending the stairs, she heard her sisters and her mother discussing in the parlour.

'Mr. Fowler? I've heard a little about him from Charles. It seems he shall pay Lady Catherine a visit soon,' Jane spoke.

'Well, then he shall visit the Bingley residence as well, will he not?' Mrs. Bennet asked.

'Since we are by now well acquainted with Lady Catherine, I should suspect so.'

Mary saw her mother hide her smile with the back of her palm. She chuckled. Her mama always looked for opportunity and found it.

'Well, they say he is single…' giggled Kitty.

'Now, now Kitty, Colonel Fitzwilliam would be shocked to hear you pronounce yourself so freely about a man past forty,' Mrs. Bennet added quickly, not forgetting the other worthy suitor to her daughter's hand.

The younger sister only flinched with disgust.

'I can see you so wish me to engage the attention of that gentleman, mama, but I shall not have it! Am I to suffer the wickedness of such a partner? If anyone should be suited to trifle with him it should be Mary since she is as serious and sombre as he is.'

'And those attributes should make me fickle enough to play with a gentleman's emotions,' Mary said, half-amused, entering the parlour herself.

'Mary, well I say, were you listening at the door?' Mrs. Bennet asked scandalised.

'A dreadful habit acquired from living eighteen years of my life with you, Kitty and Lydia.'

Jane laughed softly.

'Those were days not to be forgotten…'Kitty mused dreamily.

'Mary, if you wish to practice a bit, Charles has recently purchased a superb pianoforte which we have placed in the drawing room on the second floor…' Jane said encouragingly.

Mary did not reply for a while, but remained in thought. At length she spoke in most painful tones.

'It is very kind of you…but I am not much interested in music anymore. It has not proved to be my best field…'

_And turned out to be a most humiliating and hopeless endeavour_, she thought with melancholy.

'It is high time you gave up anyway,' Mrs Bennet said indifferently. 'Your main concern right now should be your establishing in a good home, with a worthy partner, like your sister Jane.'

The afternoon passed quickly and evening drew upon the merry group. Dinner was attended in the dining room and all the family rejoiced in the luxury of such a meal. Mr. Bingley was friendly and obliging to everyone and could not spare a moment to give compliments and wishes of good fortune.

_He is too kind a man for his own good…_Mary mused in amusement.

Kitty played with her spoon thoughtfully in her cup of tea and whispered to Mary.

'I should be most pleased to find a gentleman like Mr. Bingley.'

'Why settle for only a likeness of him?' Mary said cynically, but Kitty spluttered the contents she had sipped from her cup and coughed roughly looking with utter shock at her sister.

'Kitty, what was that all about?' Mrs. Bennet asked crossed.

Both girls remained silent.

When they had all retired to bed, Kitty dared exact her revenge and started to throw books at Mary laughing whole heartedly as they prepared for bed in their spacious room.

'I warn you, I will not tolerate the ill treatment of my books,' Mary said half-threatening, half-chuckling as she threw Kitty's little bottles of perfume across the room.

'Mary! No! Those cost a fortune and are most precious to me! You have no idea how sensible men are to scents!'

'Oh, but then I must be taught of that by having to smell that thing constantly while I sleep…'

'But ladies must perfume themselves before going to bed.'

'And whoever made up that clever rule?'

'It does not matter and I shall…' Kitty started but she faltered as both sisters heard some strange sounds outside the house.

'Did you hear that?' Mary asked. 'It sounded as if it came from the gardens…'

Both sisters went to their window to look out, but through the darkness of the night they could see nothing at all.

At length, they gave up and both went to bed, but some time afterwards Kitty got up again to look outside and this time, she could distinguish a tall figure at the gates and Mr. Bingley himself attending to him. They seemed to be on friendly terms.

'Mary, wake up! There's a person out there…'Kitty said pulling at her sister's hair.

'Ah, what in the…Catherine!'

'Come quick…'

Mary pushed her covers and went to the window herself, but the two men were gone.

'Ah, they went away, if you had woken up earlier!' Kitty said bitterly.

'Well, pardon me for trying to have some sleep at this _early_ hour…' she replied looking at the dark sky, frowning.

She turned to Kitty, but she had already crawled in her sheets again.

'Must have been some draught anyway…' she said climbing into the small niche near the window. 'And now I can't even sleep anymore, Catherine…' but she knew she couldn't be heard.

She took a book from her own and started reading.

"_It was the hope that something better was in wait for her that she breathed without remorse."_ Mary smirked as she read this line and skipped the page.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Fanciful

'Kitty, get up. It's morning. Come …mama will be expecting us,' Mary said tying her ribbon round her waist.

The younger sister was still spread all over the sheets dozing off.

'Catherine, did you hear me?' she insisted.

Kitty mumbled something inaudible and turned her back.

Mary paused to reflect what to do. She smiled.

'Kitty, will you listen to me and wake up?'

'G-go…away.'

Mary snatched the quilt and sheets and dragged them out of the bed, making Kitty fall flat on the floor.

'Ah! Mary!'

'Now go and make yourself decent. We must go down for breakfast.'

The younger sister got up and slowly went to the lavatory.

Half an hour passed in silence while Mary waited with a book in her hand for her sister.

'Kitty, are you done already?'

'Mary, I do not intend to look like a common maiden from Longbourn whose best friends are chickens. I must be presentable and decent, we are after all in the house of a gentleman and must not forget our manners.'

'So what manners do you suppose are these of making the whole party wait for us at breakfast?'

'A lady must always be waited for. She must be a little late,' Kitty said proudly.

'Ah, another pearl of wisdom from Lydia, no doubt.'

'If you so much dislike waiting, why not go down to breakfast? I'll be with you all in some minutes. We need not go together.'

'Well, if you so insist, sister,' Mary said ironically and left the room silently.

She managed to find the dining room and bade her good mornings to everyone already seated at the table which were Jane and the Bennets.

'Will Mr. Bingley join us?' Mary asked casually.

'He has some business to attend to, but will come down promptly,' Jane explained pouring Mary some tea.

'Jane, why not let the maid assist you? You needn't do it by yourself,' Mrs. Bennet told her smiling coldly.

'Oh, mama, I do not need help to pour a cup of tea. I am still the simple girl from Longbourn, nothing will change that.'

Mr. Bennet smiled warmly while Mrs. Bennet drew her eyes and clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

* * *

Kitty examined herself one more time in the large mirror, then taking a shawl with her to protect her from draughts exited the room to go to breakfast.

The corridor was bathed in sunshine and full of small primroses scattered in vases on small mahogany tables. She tried to find the dining room, but got lost on the way as she was distracted by all the elegance of the rooms she passed.

She was about to call for help when she heard a soft voice coming from a faraway corner.

'Charles? Is that you? Could you please come and assist me a bit?'

Kitty's curiosity got the better of her and she silently approached the room where the voice was coming from.

She felt a tinge of excitement as she pushed the door open and entered a comfortable room with a small desk full of papers, books scattered on the floor and a large bed with red mattresses where a gentleman lay, fully dressed, with his leg in a cask.

'Oh, pardon me!' she blushed deeply.

'Miss, you have nothing to excuse yourself for…I thought Mr. Bingley was coming. I am sorry to have scared you,' the man spoke getting up in one elbow.

'You did not scare me…but well, I didn't know Mr. Bingley had other guests,' she said.

'Oh, so you are a guest here I suppose?' he inquired.

'I am Kitty Bennet, Mrs. Bingley's sister,' she smiled, curtsying.

The gentleman raised his eyebrow questioningly.

'Charles told me Mrs. Bingley had many sisters.'

'Yes, I am not the only one. One of my sisters is here with me and the other two are married and well settled.'

'Oh…I know of Elizabeth Darcy only.'

'Yes, she is to come here soon with Mr. Darcy to pay their congratulations for…the happy event,' she blushed again not wanting to name what event it was.

'I see…I am here for almost the same reasons then. James Prowler, at your services,' he said nodding politely. 'I would get up but my condition renders such a thing impossible.'

'Oh, there is no need for that…' she giggled. 'But Sir, how did you manage to injure yourself so?'

'Ah, it was an unfortunate hunting accident…' he said falling silent.

'How long will you be staying with us?'

'As long as Charles will have me. My abode is in London, in any case. I am a lawyer for "Bishops and Knights", but I travel quite a lot as my employment demands it.'

'A lawyer? Then you must be a great deal clever.'

He smirked.

'Not as much as I would like….'

'Are you and Mr. Bingley warm acquaintances?' she asked blushing once again.

'You could say that…we've been old friends since school time, but he has probably never mentioned it.'

'Then why have you come now?' she asked but immediately realised it was a blunder and shut her mouth.

'Oh, you needn't feel embarrassed. I am currently helping Charles with business that renders the use of a lawyer. We've renewed our acquaintance which was long forgotten,' he smiled cheerfully.

The door opened at that moment and in came Mr. Bingley.

'Oh, James, I knew not that you had company.'

'I was having a small chat with Miss Bennet here,' he said nodding.

'Oh, Mr. Bingley…so sorry to intrude,' she said stuttering.

'No intrusion at all, my friend here just needs a bit of help what with his condition.'

Kitty did not know what to do, but upon hearing her mother's calls she immediately rushed out of the room paying her goodbyes.

As she came down the stairs she met her mother and they both went into the parlour where Jane and Mary were seated.

'Oh, you shan't believe this, mama!' Kitty yelped and started retelling what had passed.

Jane smiled knowingly as she heard her account and Mary put down her book puzzled.

Mrs. Bennet already schemed in her mind and asked about his age, apparel and nature.

Kitty readily answered all these inquires and went on to say more about the mysterious gentleman.

'Kitty, I believe Mr. Prowler made quite an impression on you…'Jane said warmly.

'Jane, you know him then?'

'Only a bit since he is mostly a friend of my husband's and they spend a lot of time alone. But he is a most good natured fellow with a good reputation for being a solicited lawyer.'

'Is his situation comfortable?' Mrs. Bennet asked impatiently.

'As much as any lawyer's in London,' Jane replied.

Mrs. Bennet fell silent.

'Oh, he is so handsome mama! If you only saw him, but I shall go visit again,' she said strolling across the room.

'You can do this only if the gentleman and Mr. Bingley allow it,' Mary replied flatly.

'Oh, Mary you are such a bore…the man is suffering from physical pain. I know if I stay by his side he will grow to like me.'

'Upon my word, what are your designs exactly?' Mary asked.

'Now, girls do not discuss this like a common trifle…' Mrs. Bennet said though she was thinking of a way to make Mr. Prowler more acquainted with Kitty herself.

In the afternoon, the subject of the young lawyer was given over to thinking about a ball in honour of Jane's being with child and Mrs. Bennet as well as Kitty insisted so much that Mr. Bingley was half-convinced himself.

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy arrived later in the evening, both tired yet happy, giving warm embraces and addresses to everyone.

'Lizzie! I am so glad you have come,' Jane said embracing her.

'I wouldn't have missed this for the world,' Lizzie replied warmly.

'Oh, Lizzie how is Pemberley? You are mistress now, it must be so rewarding,' Kitty said sweetly.

'Oh, Kitty, I suppose there is nothing more tedious, so times like these make me happy to be a commoner again.'

Kitty chose to think this as another witty reply from her sister.

'Mary, how is the practice going?' Lizzie asked her younger sister as they sat in the drawing room.

'She has abandoned it,' Kitty stated.

'What do you mean?'

'It's true…I've stopped playing,' Mary said embarrassed.

'Oh, Lizzie, you must convince Mr. Bingley!' Kitty said brightly.

'Oh, yes dear, now that you and Mr. Darcy have arrived and a few more friends will, we must throw a ball,' Mrs. Bennet replied.

The evening drew on happily, and in a unanimous effort, the ball was finally fixed a fortnight from the present day with Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth's help.

Invitations were soon sent with ceremonial candour and Caroline Bingley was the first honoured guest.

* * *

In the meantime, Kitty wanted nothing else but to stay in the company of Mr. Prowler as she went to visit him often and give him news of what was happening. Mrs. Bennet went to see the gentleman herself and was most pleased with his warm manners. Mary and Elizabeth expected to see him for the first time, recovered, at the ball.

After a week, James could walk slowly across the room and Kitty decided it would be a pleasant thing for them both to go on a walk. Mr. Prowler refused on account of weariness, for he enjoyed the silence of his room, but could not escape Kitty's sweet endeavours. Thus, one afternoon they both went strolling through the gardens.

They walked silently as Kitty smiled pleasantly at him, not knowing what to say.

'Will you be able to dance at the ball?' she asked at length.

'I do hope so, for I do not wish to miss a turn with you, Miss. Bennet.'

Kitty hid her face from him.

They had reached the Park gates when they saw a figure in front of them.

'Mr. Fitzwilliam!' she almost yelped unconsciously as she saw the gentleman approaching them with a soft smile.

'Miss Bennet, you did not think I would not attend Charles and your dear sister, did you?' he bowed.

'Oh…Sir this is Mr. James Prowler. Mr. Prowler this is Colonel Fitzwilliam, a good acquaintance of my family and Mr. Darcy's cousin.'

'Mr. Prowler,' Fitzwilliam extended his hand, 'I cannot say I have not heard a bit about you, Sir. Your reputation as a lawyer exceeds you.'

Colonel Fitzwilliam eyed him carefully, trying to remember what other connection he had with the family since he was certain he had heard of him in some other context.

'I am equally pleased to say I have heard very much of you too Sir,' James replied.

'A good account, I hope.'

'Excellent one.'

Both gentlemen remained in silence as Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled at Kitty sadly.

Mr. Bingley came to welcome the Colonel and was very pleased to see James could walk.

'Now, James, you have no other option than to come and get acquainted with the entire family.'

Kitty and Mr. Prowler thus followed Charles and the Colonel in the parlour where they had the pleasure of meeting the other Bennets.

'Mr. Fitzwilliam!' Mrs. Bennet rushed to him. 'We are so pleased to have you here!'

He shook hands with Mr. Bennet and bowed respectfully to Mrs. Bennet but said little otherwise.

He did however, start chatting warmly with Mary and Elizabeth who knew his character better and with whom he had many common things to discuss.

Their conversation was soon interrupted when Kitty introduced Mr. Prowler.

'I have heard much of you, Mr. Prowler to give me a good impression,' Elizabeth smiled politely and curtseyed.

'And I have heard of Mr. Darcy's loving and witty wife myself,' he said kissing her hand.

'This is my sister, Mary Bennet and Mr. Fitzwilliam you have already met…' Kitty said languidly.

Mary curtseyed. 'So, you occupy yourself with the Law, Mr. Prowler. It must be a very engaging and rewarding employment,' she said in a reserved manner.

'It is very much indeed, Miss Bennet,' he said bowing to her and smiling warmly.

The afternoon passed rapidly, as Mr. Prowler was introduced to everyone and considered amiable by almost all the party.

Mr. Bingley and Jane were in high spirits as they expected more friends to come, though no one was much pleased at hearing that Caroline Bingley was to arrive very soon.

Mary and Colonel Fitzwilliam retired in the evening to a separate corner to talk of recent books and news from London, but Mary couldn't help noticing that despite the Colonel's cheerful smile, his eyes spoke of hidden pain whenever he looked at Kitty across the room or a detail about her was mentioned in their talk.

'Sir, you seem not to be in the best of spirits,' Mary said quietly.

'Oh, no, I have the best reasons to be happy in your company and in your family's.'

'Even Mr. Prowler's?'

'You do not like him, Miss Bennet?'

'I do not think of him in any terms but I must confess I am a bit uneasy because of my sister's attachment to him. He is still, after all, a stranger…'

'Your sister…is she very much fond of him?'

'Fond of him? I couldn't say but they are good friends by now.'

Colonel Fitzwilliam soured and remained silent.

'Though…I hope she'll keep her promise of taking a turn with you at the ball, even if now she might have a close friend,' she said after a long pause.

He raised his eyes hopefully and smiled, kissing her hand.

Mrs. Bennet chose that exact moment to interrupt in order to talk to the Colonel of Kitty, but upon seeing that gesture she immediately changed her mind.

'Why, Mr. Fitzwilliam, Mary is a most amiable young lady, is she not? I do believe she can make any man quite pleased with her society since she reads a great deal and knows so much of the world. You both must find many things to discuss.'

Mary blushed, slightly annoyed that her mother presumed such things.

'Of course, a man of your nature should know that Mary needs some entertainment once in a while to separate her from the dull affair of study, so a conversation is most appropriate,' she insisted.

'I do think madam, Miss Bennet is quite accomplished and should not sacrifice her study for the likes of me as a friend,' he said smiling.

'Do not encourage her, Sir…' Mary whispered silently to him.

'Oh, but what sacrifice is that?'

Mary sighed as she turned to look about the room.

Mr. Prowler smiled at her ironically as Kitty waved her fan.

Kitty threw herself on the bed dreamily as Mary combed her hair silently. It was so dark outside that their yellow night gowns seemed white as snow.

Everyone was asleep at that late hour but for the sisters.

'He is charming…' Kitty said silently.

'Who is?'

'Mr. Prowler. Who else?'

Mary put her comb down and puffed her pillow.

'I thought Mr. Fitzwilliam was most amiable himself and a great conversation partner. He is much more reserved and calm than Mr. Prowler.'

'La! How boring indeed. It is only natural that you are so pleased with him Mary. I've said it to mama. You should be the one to marry him.'

Mary scowled.

'Colonel Fitzwilliam is only a good friend and shall remain that way, though I am not so certain that _you_ and Mr. Prowler will remain on the same terms.'

Kitty made no attempt to contradict.

'You'd best search his character first, Kitty. You know nothing of him.'

'I know enough…' she said and turned to sleep. 'Good night, Mary.'

'Good night…'

She blew off the candle and remained in darkness. She instantly fell asleep but had a most peculiar dream.

She dreamed that she was riding a horse as fast as the wind, hurrying to what place she knew not, yet someone was following her. She turned her head and saw no one, but she felt someone was there as she galloped across darkened hills.

Mary woke up from the dream with a gasp and remained awake for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Maybe

Anne de Bourgh leaned against a tall oak as she surveyed the green estate. A black bird shot through the sky, but she could not name it. She knew she was ignorant, but she didn't care. She did not need to be aware of anything around her.

Slowly she opened her blue satin bag and fished some tobacco from it, holding it between her small white fingers.

Anne waited a bit and then slowly started chewing the tobacco. The physician would probably prescribe some valerian and she couldn't help smiling peevishly at the thought of being relieved again.

'It is a sad business…I'll never get out of here. Though it is not my intention to leave,' she mumbled to herself and turned to leave.

The sound of carriage wheels made her stop in her track and turn round. She walked fast to see who had arrived and lost her bonnet on the way, but did not bother to retrieve it. The carriage stopped in front of the entrance and a servant was already waiting on the gentleman who had exited it.

Anne quickly pretended to walk slowly and feebly again, drawing her eyes and yawning sickly.

The gentleman had a long waistcoat and leather boots, white breeches and a dark green, velvet shirt. His golden rimmed spectacles which he put into his pocket gave him a demure look and his snowy lapels showed the work of a loyal housemaid. His entire apparel, while not eccentric or brash was elegant and poised.

The gentleman frowned slightly as he took in his surroundings and his green eyes sparkled with intelligence as he ran a hand through his auburn locks.

Anne followed him inside and knowing the house well, took her reveries in another place, climbing a solitary flight of stairs which led to her private rooms.

The gentleman was presented into Lady Catherine's drawing room and there he bowed to the floor politely in front of his relative.

'Mr. Fowler. You have arrived. I am most pleased you have hurried your visit. I was most anxious to hear that one of my cousin's sons was not completely lost to my knowledge, like all the other nephews or nieces who have either forgotten or never known of me,' the Lady said, wanting the speech to sound dramatic, but rendering it cold and arrogant.

'Lady Catherine, I am overjoyed to find some comfort in a relative, since I have no other family and I will be much pleased to stay at Rosings as long as you wish,' the gentleman responded in the same cold tones.

Both smiled placidly and tea was brought in.

'Now, you must make your account sound clearer to me, for in your letters I could not discern much of your past or present condition. Your history is not to be written, it is to be told,' she said a degree warmer.

'I would be most happy to oblige…'

Anne watched them from a distant corner of the room, where the shadows hid the small door through which she peered.

'Oafish fools…' she mumbled closing the door.

* * *

Lizzie and her sisters were occupying themselves in the drawing room as they expected the coming Ball. Kitty and Jane were trimming some dresses and Mary was trying to write a letter to Lydia. Elizabeth was the only one with no clear object as she looked out the window wistfully.

'Lizzie, when will Georgiana come?' Kitty asked.

'That I do not know Kitty. She is still in Bath.'

Silence fell once again.

'Are you done with that letter?' Kitty asked Mary impatiently.

Mary scowled and turned towards her sister sprinkling her with ink.

'I have nothing much to tell Lydia…in any case, she asked a letter from you and you made me write it, sister, because you are too listless and provoked to write to such "an ungrateful sister"…probably the most petty excuse you could come up with.'

'Oh, you are so tedious…please do finish the letter. You can even tell her I think she's ungrateful…and tell her to take good care of Mr. Wickham. Oh and do ask her why he got wounded, poor man.'

Mary rolled her eyes and ended her letter. She looked at it again, but had no time to go over it since Kitty snatched it rapidly and put it beside her.

'Girls, feast your eyes on this!' Mrs. Bennet, who had just entered the drawing room, spoke in high tones.

'Mama, what has happened?' asked Jane, but an invitation was placed on the small coffee table as Mrs. Bennet smiled victoriously.

All girls glanced at it curiously. The first thing they noticed were the red, cursive letters written upon it.

'Mr. Fowler,' murmured Mary. 'Mr. Bingley invited him?'

'It seems so. He has been in Kent these past three days, staying at Rosings! Mr. Bingley recently paid a visit there, at the Lady's orders, to meet her nephew and soon established some sort of amity between them which rendered him to invite Mr. Fowler to the Ball. And we do hope he'll stay with us more!'

'Where did you acquire this news, mama?' Jane asked surprised.

'Why, from Mr. Bingley himself. I found the invitation that was not necessary anymore, since he had invited Mr. Fowler in person and I demanded explanations from him even though he had meant to keep it a secret.'

'Mama, that is terribly impolite…' Mary said tiredly, lounging on the soft sofa.

'Pshaw! I had all the rights to know about this, after all, he is Lady Catherine's relative and single too…'

Lizzie smiled ironically to Jane. Kitty grinned dreamily and played with the invitation a long time.

'Mr. Prowler…Mr. Fowler….they do rhyme, don't they?'

'Yes…and based on that you'll pick your future husband,' Mary said closing her eyes.

'There's no time for naps, Marry!' Kitty said hitting her sister softly with her fan.

'Kitty, remove that useless object from my sight and pray find something to do,' Mary said reaching for a book on the floor.

'You shall not!' Kitty threatened and took the book from her hand running out of the drawing room.

'Kitty, give it back,' Mary said getting up and following her sister.

They both reached a solitary corridor, full of light. Kitty was panting from having run as ringlets of hair fell in her face.

'What would Mr. Bingley think of us running like that? It's absolutely silly. Catherine, I demand you give me my book.'

'And why should you have it?' Kitty smiled holding the book high up in the air, where Mary couldn't reach, her sister being taller.

Kitty was laughing full-heartedly at seeing Mary's feeble attempts of getting the book, but her joy was short-whiled for Mr. Prowler, reaching from behind, snatched the object and held it in his hands.

'Mr. Prowler! I didn't see you coming,' Kitty giggled.

'_Confessions, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau,_ interesting choice of lecture Miss Bennet,' he smiled.

'Oh, sir, I always enjoy a bit of lecture, it is one of my favourite books indeed,' Kitty smiled sweetly.

Mary frowned and took the book out of Mr. Prowler's hands, bowed politely and hurried to her room.

'Oh, she probably will put it in my stack, she took it from there. And what was I supposed to do? I couldn't let her have it…so I managed to tease my sister a little.'

James looked at the prickles of sweat gliding down her collarbone as her eyes sparkled with exercise.

'Miss Bennet, you must think greatly of your books if you do not share them with your sister,' he smiled cynically and shook his head amused.

'Oh, I do, why I couldn't live to know someone had one of my books in their possession.'

He held her hand chuckling as Kitty removed her fan from the floor.

She turned towards the gentleman, but he had already disappeared.

* * *

Mr. Bingley stood over some papers, fully engrossed in his work as James leaned against the window next to the desk.

The study was warm and smelled of cinnamon as wood crackled in the fireplace. Autumn was near and the green forests and hills had already started to turn copper-red much to his delight as he liked this season.

'I think I am almost done…now Mr. Tree will not bother me anymore about those depositions,' Charles smiled warmly.

'James…' he started as he put his quill in his ink bottle, 'what are your intentions in regards to Kitty Bennet?'

James, who had been day-dreaming, woke up with a frown and looked at Charles confused.

'What do you mean, Charles? I think her one of the prettiest and most amiable creatures I've met.'

'Do you really? My wife has expressed her concern about this new attachment. She does not wish her sister to be disappointed.'

'Your wife has nothing to fear. Only a warm friendship ties me to Miss Bennet.'

'And pray, how warm is that friendship?' Mr. Bingley asked laughing.

There was a long pause.

'Time will reveal this…if Miss Bennet harbours the same feelings for me after a certain period of time I shall be most happy to respond…if I should feel inclined.'

'So you mean to say that only a little time renders your amorous affair with her possible?'

'How devilish you speak…but in a nutshell, yes, I think so,' he replied smiling.

'Then I am most happy for her, because she couldn't have managed a better partner.'

* * *

Mary was fuming as she walked about her room.

'Oh, I wish to go home…' she mumbled. She couldn't understand her current mood, for never had Kitty's little tricks upset her. Not even the teasing and the offences made any impression on her.

'Could it be the Ball?' she paused to reflect. 'I always have terrible fits about such occasions…'

She remembered how she used to detest Balls and how she used to make a mockery of herself.

'But this time you shall not sing,' she said firmly. 'It will be much better.'

Someone knocked on the door.

'Mary, can I come in?' Jane's voice was heard in the corridor.

'Certainly,' replied Mary wiping her forehead.

'Are you alright, Mary? Did Kitty upset you so?' Jane asked as she entered the room and sat on the bed.

'Nay, it has nothing to do with her. I assure you, I am perfectly well. Is that the reason you have come?'

'One of them, yes. The other is that Colonel Fitzwilliam called in to offer us a ride in his phaeton to see more of the district and I promised we would not refuse such an invitation.'

'Mr. Fitzwilliam? The poor man….'

'Whatever do you mean Mary?'

'Well…he simply wishes to catch Catherine's attention, but she will not allow it.'

'Oh…' Jane smiled sadly. 'But then perhaps this might be his chance. You and your sister should go with him at once.'

'I suppose you are right,' Mary smiled.

* * *

'I do not understand why we must go out on such a windy day,' Kitty moaned displeased as she walked into the Hall to meet Colonel Fitzwilliam.

'For the same reason you wanted Mr. Prowler to teach you to swim in the lake,' Mary replied ironically.

Mr. Fitzwilliam smiled warmly at Kitty and helped her get in the phaeton as Mary watched them carefully.

They drove silently across meadows, Mary trying to converse politely with the Colonel as Kitty remained silent in her corner, watching the nature dreamily.

'How are you enjoying your stay Miss Catherine?' he asked her at length.

'It is tolerable, for I have good friends…'she replied silently.

'And you do count the Colonel as one of your friends Kitty…' Mary said smiling.

'I suppose so, you are very kind Colonel…'she replied distantly.

After some minutes the wind started howling with intensity and they made to turn back.

'As I have said, this wasn't a day appropriate for this,' Kitty said eyeing the Colonel.

His face turned into such a sad sight of sufferance that she couldn't help laughing and brushing his hand quickly.

'Do not bother yourself so for my whims.'

Kitty adored flirting and to be admired so she believed she could allow herself this little incident since she already thought herself fully engaged to Mr. Prowler.

The Colonel smiled shyly and turned towards Mary who was holding her handkerchief under her nose as she had sneezed because of the draught.

'Pray, do not catch a cold because of me, Miss Bennet.'

He had barely finished when a gallop was heard very near them and indeed, a gentleman riding a black stallion crossed them.

The Colonel stopped the phaeton quickly.

'Sir, I advise you to be careful with your vehicle on such weather,' the man replied coldly looking at the party with his green eyes frowning.

Mary and Kitty watched him silently as another gush of wind stormed the Colonel's hat off.

'Thank you Sir, for your good contrivance,' the Colonel replied.

'Good day, Ladies,' he said flatly and pulled his horse out of their way.

'How rude!' Kitty exclaimed. 'Are you alright, Colonel?' she said giving him his hat.

'Quite so, thank you Miss Bennet,' he replied happily for having secured the attention of Kitty by this meeting.

Mary leaned into the phaeton and looked back but could only see the dust rising in twisting circles and hear the fast gallop of the horse. A yellow leaf fell into her lap and she picked it up and blew it in the wind.

Only then did she realise that her handkerchief, that had her name embroidered in gold on it, had disappeared.

Kitty wanted to get out and collect some leaves and the Colonel stopped, happy to comply with Miss Bennet's wishes.

Mary searched for her handkerchief in vain. It was as if the Earth had swallowed it and she felt sorry she could never have it back again. Sighing she joined her sister who was showing the Colonel all the colours and shades that autumn had left behind.

When they returned home Kitty had her cheeks flushed, Mary wore a bitter smile on her lips and the Colonel was in such high spirits that he accepted the invitation to dinner, though he had planned to return immediately to his lodgings.

No one mentioned the meeting with the gentleman at dinner and Mary could but curse her luck as Kitty talked gregariously with Mr. Prowler and Mr. Fitzwilliam.

'Miss Bennet, I have received some interesting news from London,' the Colonel addressed her after a while, delving into one of their usual chats.

'Pray tell me Sir, if it is of interest to me.'

'And it is, I dare say, for the Militia are going to Ireland to calm the spirits that have gathered there. It seems a sort of social revolt of the working class has broken out what with the opening of the Belfast Botanic Gardens. It is a mild one, they say, barely noticeable, but we cannot afford such risks.'

'Oh, quite something…I suppose Mr. Wickham will be going to Ireland then,' Mary replied.

'Yes, I guessed as much as that and I hope he will get out of it safe.'

'So do I,' she said flatly.

Later in the evening, as they all sat in the spacious drawing room, Kitty engaged in a game of dominoes with Mr. Prowler, Lizzie and Jane discussing silently by the fire, Mr. Darcy and Charles playing chess and Mary reading the newspaper to find more about the Militia, the servant announced Caroline Bingley had arrived at last.

Everyone looked up with tiredness and Charles rushed out of the room to greet his sister. Her suave yet acid voice could be heard in the Hall, calling to see Mr. Darcy and "dear Miss Elizabeth".

'Ah, she'll entertain herself so, trying to call me Mrs. Darcy,' Lizzie said following her husband to meet Caroline.

The rain started falling outside and Kitty wondered briefly if the Colonel had arrived at his lodgings safely, but quickly discarded the thought as she laughed sweetly at an impertinent joke of James'.

Mary frowned and threw the newspaper in the fire as she got up to go to bed, not wanting to see Mr. Bingley's sister.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Feelings

'It's all wrong! It needs more ribbons, don't you think?' Kitty bellowed angrily turning impatiently in front of the mirror.

'Mm…' mumbled Mary turning a page in her book.

'And I should pull my hair up, shouldn't I?' she asked twisting her locks in a knot above her nape.

'Mm….'

'Mary!' Kitty yelled, hitting her with the comb.

'What is it Catherine?' she sighed raising her head.

'Oh, it's dreadful! I look horrible!' she said throwing herself on the bed.

Mary pulled her up and looked at her thoroughly.

A tear rolled down Kitty's cheek.

'You look ravishing…but' Mary wiped Kitty's face with her lapel, 'you do not need to paint your face.'

'Mary! Why on Earth did you do that? I spent hours powdering myself!'

'And it only makes you look more like mama. If that was your initial plan, then pardon me,' she said smirking.

'I cannot show myself without having painted my face,' she said gravely.

'Why not?' Mary asked picking up the ribbons from the floor.

'It is impolite and it makes one look plain and ignorant.'

'I'd rather be _plain and ignorant_ than have that,' she said pointing at her sister's nose where a dab of powder was left, 'on my face.'

'Pshaw, you know nothing of fashion!'

Mary settled back on the bed.

'But do I really look ravishing?' Kitty asked after a while.

'Yes, yes, Miss Bennet, like a summer's daisy…' Mary sang mockingly.

Kitty stuck out her tongue.

'Mr Prowler will like my dress, will he not?' she said twirling and flanking the veils of her bright blue gown.

'Yes, he will most appreciate you making such effort,' Mary replied bored.

_An effort of four damned hours I should say…_ she thought amused.

'Mary! What are you doing?' Kitty shrieked scandalized as her sister lounged on the bed.

'Being listless,' she replied.

'For heaven's sake, get dressed already! There's no time left, you need to make yourself look decent.'

'Oh, yes, there are only six hours left till the Ball and I am afraid I shall not have time to twist the nod of my ribbons tight enough,' Mary replied sarcastically.

Catherine however, snatched her dress from the wardrobe and placed it neatly on Mary's bed. It was of a dark green colour with nothing to enhance its elegance.

'How plain…do you intend to get dressed in that faded thing?'

'No, I shall ask for a sack of potatoes from the larder,' Mary replied opening her book.

'Get up at once! I'll do your hair at least,' Kitty said soberly.

'I need no help with my apparel…' she tried saying but was hurried off on a stool in front of the mirror.

'Now, do not move a muscle, this is crucial,' Kitty said as she started working with Mary's hair.

'Do I really have to dance with the Colonel?' Kitty asked after a while.

'You do not want to?'

'He must be a terrible dancer…'

'How would you know?'

Some minutes passed in silence.

'If he isn't a terrible one, then he must be a boring one…'

'Yet he talks of many interesting things.'

'To you only, he's as silent as the grave with me…or in any case speaks of odd things,' Kitty reproached.

Mary smiled knowingly.

'Ah! Your hair is impossible,' she said abandoning it and fetching her ribbons. 'It is so plain and dry.'

'It does not like your hands,' Mary replied yawning.

She stood in front of the mirror and saw a pale face's reflection.

'Rubbish,' she whispered.

* * *

The Bingleys' Ball room was by no means inferior to the one at Netherfield, in fact it allowed more room for dancing and more corners for feeble gossip between intimate friends.

On this occasion the tapestries and china glittered with lavish and the portrait of the Bingley family was one of the main attractions in the room. Mr. Bingley had already decided the place for his wife's portrait and planned to show all the guests its future location, pointing out how the light from the chandelier would fall softly on his wife's immortalised physiognomy.

Red-cushioned chairs had been placed around card tables and coffee tables in an adjacent room which could be reached after walking along an arched passage.

Jane was walking through that passage with her husband, being a bit anxious about her first Ball as a married woman.

'And the cook has everything prepared? Do the servants know when to enter?' she asked again.

'Yes, dear, they are all ready to comply with your orders.'

'Wishes not orders,' she said pouting slightly.

'Yes, you could never possibly order…but if you had ordered me to marry you, I dare say I would have conformed the first minute I saw you,' he said laughing and waltzing her out of the room.

They bumped most unceremoniously into Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Bennet who wanted to inspect the Ball room, mostly Mrs. Bennet.

Jane sighed and ran away to get ready, laughing as if she was back at Longbourn and she had never met Charles.

She joined Lizzie and they both reminisced old times as, a floor above them, two other sisters were living those times.

* * *

Kitty exited the room in her celestial gown, turning around to examine herself and considering she was finally complete, physically at least. She did look perfect, but she felt chipped, as a beautiful chipped saucer.

'Ah and now you have spoilt my surprise, Miss Bennet.'

She turned. Mr Prowler was standing in front of her, smiling warmly.

'Oh, Mr. Prowler, you sneaked up on me!' she tried laughing though she was disappointed he had seen her.

'Now you will think me plain…' she muttered.

'Many things could characterise you, Miss Bennet, but plain is not one of them…you look breathtaking,' he said kissing her hand. 'And I believe you would have made me suffer to wait so much for your astounding appearance.'

Mary was watching them from behind the door, two locks of her straight black hair falling in her face. Her rosy lips were pursed as her eyes watched them curiously.

As Mr. Prowler bowed to kiss her hand he caught her looking and she quickly hid behind the door.

'I believe Miss Bennet is trying to tell us something,' he said eyeing the door.

Mary came out proudly and said nothing.

'Oh, it's just Mary. I can trust her, can I not?' she asked turning towards her sister.

'What are you planning Kitty?' she asked crossing her arms.

'Oh, I am simply making Miss Bennet promise me she'll give all her dances to me,' James answered instead politely.

'Sir, well you have taken much liberty, but I can only accept,' Kitty said and bowing took her sister by her arm and rushed with her downstairs. Mr. Prowler smiled at Mary ironically as she turned her head.

'Kitty what about the Colonel?' Mary asked frowning.

'What about him?'

'You promised to dance with him.'

'I made no such promise. You did for me.'

'Well then, be a good sister and don't make me go back on my word,' she replied haughtily.

'Well, since he seems so eager to dance he'll have an excellent partner in you,' she said smiling sweetly.

They both walked towards the Ball room in silence. Before entering Kitty took Mary by the elbow and whispered in her ear.

'But I'll tell you when I want to have a turn with him, so pay attention, I'll give you a sign of some sort and then I'll come and you must say you are tired and must sit down.'

After saying these Catherine hurried into the Ball room leaving her surprised sister in the hall, laughing loudly.

After some minutes Mary dared enter as well, but regretted instantly, when she found herself crushed by dozens of ladies and gentlemen she had never met.

_How in the world…I thought we must be one of the firsts to come…_

She tried to count the carriages that might have arrived, but she lost track as she couldn't possibly imagine there being enough room for so many people.

Mary tried to squirm herself through the crowd, but found it half impossible, until she discovered most people had just arrived and were trapped in one part of the room, not advancing at all.

At length, she found herself free from the madness and hurried towards a chair. Most of them were occupied. There was however a free place next to her mother but she had no dying wish to sit there.

Instead she went to see the Bingley family portrait. As she peered at it through the fog of cigar smoke that already emanated around her, she considered that the picture was very plain indeed and rather silly. She discovered what was missing. Jane. Without her the painting looked bland.

'Fascinating likeness, is it not?' Caroline Bingley approached her from a corner of the room.

'Breathtaking…' Mary murmured.

'How are you, Miss Bennet?'

'Quite well, madam, I hope you are well too,' she replied politely.

'I am in a cheerful disposition, thank you.'

'How is it that Mrs. Hurst didn't come to the event?'

'Oh, she could not, the poor soul. She is in Paris with Mr. Hurst on business.'

'I see…' Mary whispered.

'Have you seen my brother? He promised to introduce me to some of his friends and I should like to remind Mr. Darcy that I saved two dances for him.'

But she did not wait for an answer, for having spotted Elizabeth rushed towards her.

'Miss Elizabeth…' she said loudly.

Mary shook her head.

'There you are, come quick, you must see, Lady Catherine has arrived!' Kitty said taking Mary by the hand and leading her through the passage.

They both reached the room where the couples had already formed. The chairs lay in disarray behind and the orchestra had already started playing happily. In front, Jane and Charles were smiling warmly to everyone, welcoming them with the air of a bohemian couple.

Jane was blushing from so many people congratulating her and hoping it would be a strong healthy boy.

Lady Catherine paid no such congratulations however, but simply sat down next to Caroline and Mrs. Bennet, who tried her utmost to please the lady.

Mary looked around the room to try and find Colonel Fitzwilliam, but instead she noticed a tall figure near the orchestra. The gentleman had such deep green eyes that she had to look away. Nevertheless, she couldn't help looking again and noticed him glancing proudly at her as he arranged his waistcoat.

Mary did not much notice his lavishing appearance, but only focused on that sharp physiognomy.

'Kitty, isn't that the gentleman who…' but when she turned Kitty wasn't by her side.

'Kitty, where have you gone?' she asked aloud.

But upon looking at the couples dancing, she noticed one pair consisting of her sister and Mr. Prowler. He had already swept her away.

Mary decided to keep a close watch on her sister, not trusting Mr. Prowler as much as she could trust a possible suitor.

She walked about the room, following the couples across the floor and smiling whenever her sister burst into a fit of laughter.

However, when she looked back at the orchestra the gentleman was gone. As she passed a servant, she took a glass of wine from his tray and kept walking silently.

Suddenly she saw the man entering the passage into the small room with card tables and thus she hurried into his direction. She knew not what she was doing, but knew she had to find out who he was.

She saw him sit at a table with a couple of gentlemen and two ladies. He seemed to have an instant effect upon the women as he started chatting with them as if he were discussing important state affairs, yet the ladies seemed fully engrossed.

Mary turned to leave, but at that moment she met Elizabeth who was walking with Jane about the room.

'Oh, there is Mr. Fowler, Lizzie, the man I wanted to acquaint you with. You'll find him a most interesting character,' Jane said drawing her towards the gentleman's table.

'Mary, come along,' Lizzie said cheerfully, taking her sister's hand. Thus Mary found herself in a most embarrassing position as she went with her sisters to Mr. Fowler's table.

_So it was he…Mr. Fowler that day…_she thought.

Mr. Fowler got up to meet the ladies and kissed Mrs. Bingley's hand in a respectful way.

'This is Mrs. Darcy, my sister,' she replied.

'Oh, I have heard of the Pemberley estate acquiring a mistress. We are to be neighbours, Mrs. Darcy,' he said in reserved tones.

'Thank you Sir, I look forwards to it. This is one of my sisters, Mary Bennet,' she said as Mary stepped aside to smooth out her dress.

'Miss Bennet,' he bowed and kissed her hand.

She bowed as well and remained silent.

As they sat down the ladies went away leaving room for Jane and Lizzie to sit next to Mr. Fowler as Mary sat at the opposite end of the table placing the cards into decks.

A conversation soon ensued and the gentlemen started debating on the subject of Adam Smith's _The Theory of Moral Sentiments._

'David Hume was his inspiration…that is how he divided the moral systems,' one gentleman was saying.

'David Hume? I shouldn't think so…' Lizzie laughed.

'Actually, Smith followed the views of Francis Hutcheson, his mentor, who divided moral philosophy into four parts: Ethics and Virtue, Private Rights and Natural liberty, Family rights and State and Individual Rights. Though, he didn't agree with his teacher's idea of the sixth sense when it came to morality,' Mary suddenly spoke up in grave tones.

When she stopped everyone looked at her at a loss for words. Mr. Fowler, who had wanted to correct the gentleman himself, closed his mouth and smiled warmly at her.

'May I have a dance with you, Miss Bennet?' he asked out of the blue.

Mary looked up and without thinking agreed to take a turn with him. They both got up mechanically and started walking towards the couples who were aligning for a new dance.

They faced each other, Mary looking confused, the gentleman eyeing her shrewdly as the music started and they began moving to the sound of it.

Some minutes passed in silence as they danced stiffly, before Mr. Fowler noticed she was not indeed a professed dancer.

'I admit I could never dance very well…I might have other attributes, but not this one,' she said sadly.

'I find that quite charming, Miss Bennet,' he replied slowly, smirking at her. 'Honesty is the best policy.'

'Indeed, though no one undertakes it…'

He chuckled. 'Would you be an exception?'

She smiled uncertain of what to say and turned to catch his hand. Kitty noticed her from the crowd as she danced with James and laughed bitterly thinking it was the Colonel, but upon seeing Mr. Fowler stopped dead and dragged James towards them, interrupting other couples and trying to reach them while fighting the sea of people.

'Mary, who are you dancing with?' she asked sweetly, eyeing the gentleman.

'This is…' Mary started.

'Mr. Fowler,' he bowed politely.

'Oh, Mr. Fowler, I am Kitty Bennet, we have heard so much of you…' she said curtseying.

'I doubt it, since not even Lady Catherine herself can give a clear account about me,' he said smiling cynically.

'This is James Prowler, a lawyer from London,' Kitty said not knowing what to add.

Both gentlemen nodded to each other.

'It is true what they say…the Bennet family is full of _charming_ ladies,' Mr. Fowler added eyeing Kitty. She blushed deeply and James frowned as he looked at Mary accusingly and grasped Kitty's hand.

'Yes and they do have a knack for bewitching men too,' Mr. Prowler replied.

'Perhaps not always the appropriate ones,' Mary replied herself.

'That is their fault only,' added Mr. Fowler.

A tensed silence passed as couples surrounded them dancing.

Mr. Fowler kissed Mary's hand and bowed politely to the other couple as he made his sudden exit from the Ball room.

Mary was left in the middle of the youths, looking at the chandelier lost in thought.

The moment he was gone Kitty burst into a fit of anger, proclaiming that he had been a most impolite and insolent man.

'He paid no appropriate attentions to me…and he left Mary just like that,' she added at length.

James tried to calm her but she went on.

'Oh and he is so terribly old! He looks fifty indeed…pshaw!'

'Well, perhaps only this way can he reach the expectations of Miss Bennet,' he said as he took the hand of his partner and led her across the room.

'Where has Mr. Fowler gone to?' Jane asked Mary as she came to her with Lizzie and Charlotte, who had just arrived.

'He left,' she said turning and walking out of the Ball room, to the surprise of her sisters.

Mary walked across the Hall pondering on what had happened, but she could not tell how she felt about Mr. Fowler, only that she was fascinated by his person.

Mr. Prowler and Kitty had perhaps ruined her chance of finding out more about him, but she told herself she felt nothing inclined to an attachment towards the man.

It was then she remembered Colonel Fitzwilliam.

With great mortification she closed the door of her room and flung herself on the bed, thinking that she had probably neglected the Colonel's presence all night since she had not seen him.

However, one of the maids brought a new stack of sheets and a letter for "Miss Bennet" from the Colonel.

She immediately opened it and read the few lines it contained.

"…_Could not attend the happy event because of a sudden cold I caught on the unfortunate windy day when we had our lovely drive…"_ she read from the paper.

She sighed and placed the letter on Kitty's bed so she might see it when she came to bed.

Refusing to think more about Mr. Fowler she made her bed and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Inside a pocket

Mary woke up with a start, breathing heavily sweat gliding down her forehead. She got out of her bed slowly, taking in her surroundings. She instantly looked towards Kitty's bed, but it was empty.

Slowly, she dressed herself and washed her face. When she returned in the room she noticed the shreds of paper next to Kitty's bed. She bowed down to pick them up, but noticed there were pieces of the Colonel's letter.

Anger built up inside her and holding a piece of paper exited the room and quickly made for the drawing room, where she supposed she could find her sisters.

She burst into the room fully aware her hair was as dishevelled as if she had fought her way through a storm.

'Where is Catherine?' she asked loudly.

Jane was writing at her small desk and she seemed to be the only person in the room as she looked pensively at the dark blue clouds outside. Upon Mary's entrance she rose alarmed.

'Mary, has something happened?'

'Oh, Jane, where is Kitty?' she asked, a degree calmer.

'Shush,' Jane told her as she took her by the arm and closed the door quickly behind her.

'Kitty has gone to visit Colonel Fitzwilliam.'

Mary stared for a minute.

'What do you mean?'

'She came this morning, very much distraught, showing me a letter from the Colonel about his illness and she insisted she wanted to go and visit him, but made me promise not to tell mama or Mr. Prowler.'

'What on Earth determined her to go like that?'

'She seemed to be upset with the Colonel…it was rather odd, she was slighting him and offending him in my presence, but wanted to see him at the same time,' Jane said smiling.

'So…I should suppose she is with him right now,' Mary said quietly, her expression softening. 'She went on foot?'

Jane nodded. 'I could not stop her, I told her it was foolish, but she would not listen. She said she enjoyed walking…oh, I hope I did the right thing…the Colonel's lodgings are close indeed but…'

'Then I must go myself at once,' Mary replied in a firm tone.

'I thought you'd say that, so you have my approval to go, but please let Joseph, our coachman, accompany you, for I shall not let _you_ walk there.'

Mary smiled and thanked her sister, going to get ready for the trip.

As she reached the Hall she was greeted by Mr. Prowler who had come from breakfast.

'Miss Bennet, where are you going in such a rush?'

'Mr. Prowler…I do not suppose it would be of much consequence to you.'

'Well, I might guess your destination, but please, allow me to remark that you needn't hurry to your conquest in such a way.'

'Pardon me?'

'I was simply assuming you were going to visit a certain gentleman…'he said casually.

'And indeed, I am going to visit a gentleman who might need my assistance. Why do you ask?'

'Concern for your reputation and your sister's drive me to inquire, Miss Bennet, for I do not suppose this is the most exemplary conduct to show to a younger, more naïve sibling,' he said proudly.

Mary frowned and looked at him suspiciously.

'Of what conduct do you speak?'

A long pause followed.

'Has Miss Catherine woken up?' he asked at length.

'Not yet…' Mary replied rapidly. 'No, she is still in bed…she said she did not feel composed enough to leave the room. It seems the Ball has tired her.'

'Oh, terrible news indeed, I do hope she shall recover soon,' he said silently.

'So do I,' she said sternly. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, Sir…'

'Oh, pardon me…I will not interrupt your affairs any longer…but I beg you to consider what I have told you, Miss Bennet,' he said and departed.

Mary was puzzled about what he had said and as she reached the carriage she looked again at the house, trying to understand what he had meant.

_Did he refer to my going to see the Colonel? It must have been this…for what else could he have supposed? _she thought getting in and drawing her shawl over her shoulders.

'I should not thing of it anymore…' she murmured.

* * *

'This is what happens when you do not listen to my sayings, Mr. Fitzwilliam…' Kitty said as she placed another cold compress on his forehead. 

She sat on a chair near his bed, a newspaper on her lap and spoke in most grave and patronising tones.

'I told you, that very day, that the weather was inappropriate for a walk…but you so insisted,' she said pulling his pillow up so he could sit in a more comfortable position.

'Oh, please Miss Bennet, do not trouble yourself so, my maid can assist me in such trivial affairs,' he said feeling embarrassed.

'Nonsense, that Beth woman cannot tie a shoelace with spectacles on, she can hardly take care of you, Sir,' she said loudly so the maid could hear her.

'And I did insist that day Miss Bennet, for I much wanted to enjoy your delightful company and hear you praise the nature you so love,' the Colonel said in a stroke of inspiration caused by fever and unconscious bravery.

Kitty stopped half way as she was wringing the compress and looked at him blankly. She giggled nervously and sprinkled him with little drops of cold water, as a form of punishment.

'It seems the illness has much damaged your mind, Sir,' she spoke amused.

'On the contrary, I have never been more lucid,' he spoke firmly, but she simply smiled at him and threw her locks of hair nervously out of her face.

All this was observed quietly by Mary, who was standing in the doorway, peering through the small opening. She smiled and shook her head, not knowing what to think of her sister.

At length she entered the room slowly at which point Kitty instantly got up and dropped the compress on the floor.

'Mary! What are you doing here?'

'I came to see a good friend and a very secretive sister,' she replied ironically.

Kitty pursed her lips. 'You haven't told mama, or Mr. Prowler, have you?'

'Be at rest, they know nothing of your escapade.'

Kitty scowled silently.

'How are you, Colonel?' Mary asked warmly.

'Much better, thank you, at seeing such good friends around me and being attended by such a caring young lady,' he replied.

Kitty merely smiled proudly and wrapped her arm around her sister's, as if hiding childishly behind her.

Their visit did not last much longer as Catherine seemed impatient to leave now that Mary had arrived and spoke of the weather and bland things when asked to participate in the conversation. The Colonel didn't observe her agitated spirits, but was merely happy for her presence.

As the two sisters reached the carriage Kitty spoke in most offended tones.

'You needn't have come simply because you believed me incapable of taking care of myself, Mary.'

'It was with no such intention in mind that I come, Kitty. I only wished to see my friend.'

'Yet you interrupted in a most impolite way…' she murmured.

'What are you saying, Catherine?'

'Nothing,' she replied a degree louder. 'Has Mr. Prowler asked of me?'

'He did. I told him you were indisposed,' she replied promptly.

'Why did you tell him that? Now he'll think I am rejecting his advances…' Kitty moaned.

'And what was I supposed to say to him, pray tell me?' Mary asked but her sister did not answer.

They both got into the carriage in silence, not exchanging two words for the rest of their way back.

They reached Bingley Park in no time, but as soon as they entered the Hall they heard Charles and Mr. Prowler pass by, at which point Mary quickly took Kitty by the arm and forced her to enter a small room which served as a broom-cupboard.

'Mary, what in the world?' Kitty started.

'Shhh!' Mary said signalling her to be quiet.

'Mary, I want to get out,' her sister insisted but Mary placed her hand over Kitty's mouth and scowled quietly.

The two gentlemen were engaged in a conversation that was not familiar to either of the young ladies, but Mr. Prowler stopped shortly in the middle of the Hall.

'Did you hear something?'

'What do you mean James?'

'I heard some voices…'

'I didn't hear a thing,' Charles replied smiling.

'Must have imagined it…'

'Too much bureaucracy does that to a decent fellow,' Mr. Bingley laughed, alluding to James' late hours of study.

'I think I should like to check on Miss Bennet to see how she is, for I heard she was ill-disposed this morning,' James said casually.

Kitty's eyes widened fearfully and Mary stiffened instantly.

'Was she really? Jane must know of it then, I hope nothing serious,' Charles said amiably.

'So do I…' Mr. Prowler said.

They turned and entered the parlour leaving a dead silence behind.

As quick as possible the two sisters exited the broom-cupboard and climbed fearfully the flights of steps to their room.

They managed to reach it in time and Kitty quickly disposed of her dress remaining but in her petticoat as she got in her bed, drawing up her quilt.

Mary placed herself in the armchair in the corner, planning to sew a stocking, but no sooner had she sat down, than Mr. Prowler knocked at the door ceremoniously.

'Who is calling?' Kitty said in a weak voice.

'Mr. Prowler, Miss Bennet, wanting to see how you are. May I come in?'

Kitty nodded to Mary who went to open the door.

Mr. Prowler bowed politely and went to Kitty's bed, seating himself in a chair in front of her.

'Miss Bennet, I was in agitated spirits to find out you weren't well,' he said.

'Oh, Mr. Prowler, you worry too much, I…simply felt indisposed and fatigued, perhaps I wasn't dressed fitfully for such weather. I may have caught a small cold…but I shall recover if I rest a bit.'

'Should we call for a physician?'

'Not at all, such small business can be best healed naturally,' she replied sweetly.

Some more trifling words were added before Mr. Prowler got up.

'Miss Bennet, I hope you shall take good care of your sister and not be away again,' he said, turning to Mary.

'Do not fret, Sir, she shall have me as comfort.'

'I hope your trip was pleasant enough,' he added sternly.

'It was very much, thank you,' she said in grave tones.

'Humpf,' he bowed and left the room.

As soon as he was gone Kitty got up and started walking about the room.

'Mr. Prowler is very gentile, isn't he?'

'Barely…' she whispered in reply and took up a book, forgetting about the stocking.

* * *

The afternoon soon drew on and Mary and Kitty went for a walk in the garden, planning to find comfortable places to either read or dream wistfully of the future. 

'Dear sister, perhaps exercise will make you_ recover_…,' Mary said ironically, alluding to what had passed in the morning.

Kitty laughed good-naturedly. 'Oh, you have been a comfort indeed,' she replied dramatically.

Kitty searched for chrysanthemums while Mary sat under a poplar, skimming an ancient map of Rome.

Their peaceful state was however, interrupted when they heard a maid pass by the gates with a large hamper in her hand.

Kitty rushed to see what the woman had brought, ignoring Mary's calls as she hurried to get hold of her sister.

They both reached the poor maid who had shrunk into submission when she had seen the two young ladies approaching. She bowed frightened.

'I came to see if there was anyone at the gates, missus…'

'Whatever for?' exclaimed Kitty rudely.

'Well, this here o' basket been left on m' doorstep of the back kitchen. Might have been brought by someon' of som' sort…messenger haps…' she said stuttering.

Kitty bowed down to inspect the hamper and noticed it was full of vegetables and poultry. A small parcel, with a letter on top was to be found in it.

The younger sister quickly took hold of the parcel and opened it without delay.

'Kitty, how rude, you mustn't do that! What if it is for Mr. Bingley?'

However, Kitty was already half-way through a ceremonious invitation that she had found inside.

'It's from Lady Catherine and Mr. Fowler,' she beamed. 'They've invited us to dine at Rosings. What delightful news, perhaps Mr. Fowler wishes to apologise for his most shocking behaviour at the Ball.'

Mary frowned and turned away. The other letter however, caught her attention and she picked it up from the basket.

It was addressed to Miss M. Bennet. She could see no other writing indicating another name, however.

She put it in the folds of her dress quietly and ordained the maid to announce Mr. Bingley of the occurrence and to store the goods properly.

Taking Kitty's hand she rushed towards the house and presently found Jane to whom they showed the invitation.

She was very pleased to see such letter, but her gratitude cannot be compared to that of Mrs. Bennet's, who seeing an opportunity in this, insisted that she, Jane and Elizabeth remained at home.

'It is not proper of married women to go dining in such a manner with a single gentleman and his relatives…' she said.

'Oh, so you must presume it proper for single ones to do so,' Elizabeth remarked laughing. Mrs. Bennet clicked her tongue and remained quiet.

It was a fortunate event for the mother that Mr. Bingley was engaged in his office with Mr. Prowler and that no gentleman could accompany them. Thus it was settled that only Kitty and Mary were to go to Rosings with Joseph, the coachman.

They both went to their room to prepare and it was safe to mention that Kitty loitered for two hours in the lavatory as Mary sat, bored in the niche near the window.

At length, she remembered the letter and took it from the folds of her dress, peering at it concerned.

She opened it carefully and found her handkerchief, which she had lost, inside. A small note was attached to it.

_You might just find the lily in the ferns, if you but look closely. _

Mary's hand trembled as she put the handkerchief in her pocket and looked at the small piece of paper between her fingers.

_A lily in the ferns…Did he mean…but I am nothing unique. I am not like Catherine…yet this letter was addressed to me. _

'Mary? Come and help me please,' Kitty said loudly from the other room.

Mary woke up from her reverie and quickly concealed the note in a book, placing it under her pillow.

'Yes, Kitty?' she entered the lavatory and was almost hit with a shoe in the head as her sister struggled to brush her curls.

When all the preparation was done, the two sisters got into the carriage once again, but this time to a different destination.

Mrs. Bennet advised them both as if they were going on a trip abroad, never to return and Jane told them not to cause much trouble.

* * *

Mary looked at the nature surrounding her with a new eye. She smiled shyly and considered someone did not think her a waste of company. Kitty giggled nervously beside her, but she could only think about the note. 

A small yellow leaf landed in her lap once again, but this time she did not blow it in the wind.

They arrived at Rosings and were welcomed with cold cordiality by butlers and maids as they surveyed the beautiful mansion and the vast lands surrounding it.

'Lizzie was right…it does look like a castle,' Kitty murmured with admiration as she saw the sun set blissfully across the copper branches of oaks.

Mary looked at the large windows which were covered in steam that only served to heighten their elegance.

As they entered the parlour and were baffled by its grandeur, Mary felt sorry she had not improved her attire at least a bit, for she was wearing a very plain and even disrespectful dress, whereas Kitty was sparkling with beauty.

Shrugging her shoulders she told herself beautiful attire would not matter.

_To Mr. Fowler it wouldn't…considering he…_she thought, alluding to the letter again.

Lady Catherine came into the parlour accompanied by her daughter and Mr. Fowler who was holding the hand of the before mentioned young lady.

After good greetings and respectful attentions, Lady Catherine condescended to give her "amiable" formulas with which she welcomed guests and started a small talk with Kitty Bennet, wanting to know why the entire family could not attend.

Kitty explained thoroughly and most brashly how obliged she was to her and how Mr. Bingley and her sisters had been engaged.

Lady Catherine was pleased not to see Elizabeth or Jane, but disapproved of the young sister's audacious speech.

Mary inspected Anne carefully and found her in appearance a most weak being, though she clung indifferently to Mr. Fowler.

'Miss Bennet,' he suddenly addressed her, 'would you care for a game of backgammon?'

Mary was too puzzled to refuse and they both sat down at the game table.

They played in silence for a while, Mary not daring to look at him.

'Your sister is a most garrulous being,' he said at length.

'It runs in the family…'Mary replied quietly.

He chuckled.

'I suppose you expect a form of apology for the way I treated you last night, Miss Bennet.'

'What way, Sir?' she asked surprised.

'Why, I left you to make a fool of yourself in the middle of the room with no partner,' he said amused.

'It is of no consequence…' she said, but she did not hear any word of apologise from him.

'I perhaps was rude, but it couldn't have been helped…the presence of your sister and her…_suitor_ displeased me,' he said offhand.

Mary remained silent.

'I advise you to look into the matter, Miss Bennet…and be careful of your acquaintances, especially your sister's. You might find some startling things about them...that may provoke many inconveniences…' he added.

Mary started playing with her handkerchief and looked at the fireplace worriedly.

'Thank you, Sir for your care…I did not consider…' she started, but when she looked at him she saw him smiling at her softly.

'That is a very beautiful handkerchief, Miss Bennet, be careful not to lose it,' he said and got up to wait on Lady Catherine who had called him.

Dinner was soon ready and they all sat in the dark and dreary dining room, which smelled oddly of burnt candles.

Mary and Kitty sat next to each other, the younger sister whispering trifles in her ear about the things she had noticed on the small coffee table in the parlour.

Mr. Fowler and Anna sat opposite them and Mary looked from time to time either at him or at Lady Catherine who was seated, as always, at the head of the table.

The gentleman spared her few looks, but those were quite quizzical and odd and spoke to no one but her and Lady Catherine which made Kitty renew her opinion of him being "the most insolent bloke to have ever crossed her way".

Lady Catherine already thought Mary was either cunningly shy or plain stupid and did not much speak to her which did not bother her at all as she found ample time to observe the house minutely.

Mr. Fowler guided her to the library and Mary was most impressed by the immense and beautiful library that Lady Catherine possessed.

The rows and rows of books seemed never to finish and she glided as in a dream, through the room, reading every single title she could feast her eyes on.

'I have a similar library at my own residence in Derbyshire, but I do not profess to it being better stocked,' he said following her amused.

Mary found a book which very much interested her and applied to take it out, but in doing so she fell on a heap of books with the wanted book in her lap. Her hair was now a very dishevelled bun and her entire apparel seemed out of the ordinary.

She blushed deeply, but Mr. Fowler laughed good-naturedly and picked her up from the floor.

'You should be careful, Miss Bennet, books can be quite dangerous,' he said with mirth.

'Especially in my hands,' she added.

The evening drew on in a pleasant way for Mary, though Kitty declared she was bored out of her wits and wished to go home.

At length, the carriage was brought up and the two sisters bid the Lady and Mr. Fowler goodbye, for Anne had already retired.

Mr. Fowler bowed and kissed their hands, but Kitty scowled silently, trying her best to be rude to him.

As they departed, Mary could have sworn she saw a dark figure, running through the trees, but when she looked back she could only see the mist of the night falling over the estate.

'Honestly, he is a most pompous fellow with bricks instead of brains,' she exclaimed.

'Kitty, you barely talked to him. How could you have formed this opinion?'

'Didn't you look at his eyes, Mary? They held a most insolent and proud glare.'

Again, both sisters remained silent, not exchanging any words until they reached the comfort of their room at Bingley Park.

Mary found yet another letter on her nightstand, addressed to her. However, this time, it was from Lydia.

Kitty had run into the drawing room to give Mrs. Bennet and Jane an account of the night so Mary opened the letter and read it at leisure.

_Dear Mary, _

_I was much surprised to hear from you of all people, my dear sister, for I hoped Kitty would write to me a few lines. That is not to say I am not thoroughly pleased to hear from you, what with Kitty thinking I am ungrateful simply because I chose to do my duty of matron and mistress of my house. For I have much to bear, much to bear….Oh, Mary as a married woman life would be quite dreary, were it not for my angel, Mr. Wickham. _

_I am so happy to hear Jane is with child and I cannot wait till I can have a bundle of joy myself! I wish I could have come for I long for appropriate company. But I promise Mr. Wickham and I will soon visit and tell you of all his braveries for he has already gone off to Ireland to fight. Poor man, as soon as he was healed he went off to save the country! Such noble man, and having been ill too! I should declare myself very frightened were it not for his conscientious letters which inform me of his state minutely. Oh, I wish all of you could have such husband as mine!_

_As for his poor injuries that set him to bed for a while, I can only blame his wretched cousin for this! I told my dear Jane he had been wounded in battle, which is not an entire lie, I dare say! I was too ashamed, you see, to tell you my husband had got into such a fight, but believe me, he looked as if he had come from battle indeed! Why, that wretched Mr. Prowler! Such an ungrateful cousin indeed! _

_They fought on the account of my own person, would you believe it? Mr. Prowler dared to approach me on more than friendly terms when he came to visit and Mr. Wickham considered his duty to set him straight! But Mr. Prowler hit him with such brutality that poor Mr. Wickham had to be attended by me day and night! Well, at least I am glad he had his own share of injuries! I dare say I would have pressed charges, were it not a "family business" as they say. _

_I do not know where he is now, but let him feel ashamed for having done this to my poor husband! I hope he never returns to our company. _

_Now you know what stopped us from coming and I wish you could feel pity for the hard and laborious tasks which precede me, but I have no choice in the matter. _

_I shall be able to visit sometime this winter and until then I hope you are all well._

_With Love,_

_Lydia Wickham _

As soon as Mary finished, she jumped from her seat, struck with horror and hurried to show the letter to Mr. Bingley.

She considered she ought to tell the news to the gentleman first, for her sisters would certainly not take it well. She hoped he did not much trust Mr. Prowler and wondered whether he knew he was cousin to Mr. Wickham.

Much was her surprise however, when Mr. Bingley himself informed all of them Mr. Prowler had left the same afternoon, on account of urgent business to London.

Kitty entered a state of irritating depression and cried tears of remorse for not having said goodbye to him.

'What a curious event! He was in such a rush that I dare say it would seem quite impolite…' Mrs. Bennet muttered.

For the first time, Mary agreed with her.

'Yes, Mr. Bingley, is this the conduct of a proper gentleman?' she said considering if she should bring the subject of the letter into discussion.

'I assure you, Miss Bennet, I trust Mr. Prowler as much as I trust Mr. Darcy and think of him a most obliging and honourable fellow.'

_Perhaps your kindness has blinded you…_Mary thought as she tried to comfort her sister who was much in despair.

She did not know what possessed her to do it, but she hid the letter carefully and showed it to no one hoping they would forget Lydia was to write to them. Mary considered she would show it to them when they would be more at leisure and composed.

She knew the first to know would have to be Kitty.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Kitty and Apples

The next day, Mary was in better spirits so that she could write a reply to Lydia's letter, asking for more information regarding the mentioned affair. She needed to be certain of the degree of Mr. Prowler's interference, for, Kitty's attachment had not gone off, though it was safe to mention her feelings for another gentleman had developed as of late.

She could only wish the Colonel were esteemed as he deserved by her sister, but only time would tell…

All the members of the family were preparing their rightful departures, since it was generally considered they had imposed on Bingley for too long, though Mrs. Bennet contested together with Charles at their leaving.

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy left that same morning, for they rapidly had to reach Bath to bring Georgiana to Pemberley, thus they set off at once with their adieus and hopes they would see them all at Christmas.

Caroline Bingley could not be deferred from going with Elizabeth and Darcy, as she did not want to be an inconvenience to Charles and Jane, though it was suspected she had different motives, such as inviting herself to stay at Pemberley.

In consequence, the only departure left was that of the Bennets' and it lengthened till noon as Jane and her husband wanted to have a proper farewell.

Mary could not but admit that she felt a bit under the weather, since she had wanted to talk more to Mr. Fowler, yet she bore it considerably well, thinking it was a fruitless effort to make a new friend in such conditions.

Kitty, however, was much distressed, though none could guess why. She was fidgety and crossed all morning and in the afternoon she was quite uncivil to almost everyone, though she was noticed only by Mary.

At last, the moment arrived to get in the carriage and leave, with tears in both Jane's and Mrs. Bennet's eyes.

'I am to be alone again, in that solitary house that has turned so cold and grey without you there, Jane my dear, and without Lizzie and Lydia!' she sobbed bitterly, though to Mary it seemed more like a farfetched show.

'We shall see each other soon, mama, depend upon it, we shall come to visit and Christmas will be a reason to reunite us all, I hope,' Jane replied sensibly.

They embraced one more time, after which they were soon off on the journey to Hertfordshire.

They passed through Kent in melancholic silence, though Mrs. Bennet still commented on their leaving so soon, while Kitty looked out the window, annoyed and flushed as Mary sat quietly with her book in her hands, but having no will to read.

Their mother was soon asleep and thus the younger sister turned and sighed deeply.

'Kitty, what is the matter?' Mary ventured.

'It is but fair for me to sigh…since we made such a blasted opinion, by leaving as such.'

'Yet, I believe we have bidden our adieus in a most considerate way…' Mary replied puzzled.

'Perhaps, but we have not bidden them to all who had to part with us,' she replied flatly and said no more.

Mary was quite at a loss for words, but she recalled that indeed, they had not seen more of the Colonel or said goodbye to him.

_Is that the cause of her distress? _

But as soon as that though entered her head she smiled, pleased to see Kitty had not forgotten him.

After a gruelling journey they arrived at Longbourn safe and sound and Mrs. Bennet, to the amazement of all, proclaimed she would have never left her happy, warm house, if it had been for her to decide.

Such moody behaviour in their mother did not alarm the sisters, as they both retired to their room.

Mrs. Bennet did not waste a second, but immediately went to call on Lady Lucas, for she had much to tell and divert.

Having returned home, Mary found her mind at rest and the pleasant peace that engulfed their house suited her well, for she soon delved into her studies, forgetting all about their visit, or at least trying to forget.

At dinner time, however, that peace was quite broken when Mrs. Bennet shared what she had learnt at the Lucases.

'Poor Lady Lucas was so envious of our success there that she started flattering herself with having visited Charlotte and dined with Lady Catherine long before we had the pleasure of meeting her! Poor soul, I say, the woman is probably despaired at having only one daughter married and that to a birdbrain of a man at the dawn of spinsterhood!'

'My dear, Lady Lucas gives you such interesting account on every occasion you decide to call. I myself remember it now by heart…' muttered Mr. Bennet amused.

'Then hear this new account, Mr. Bennet,' she said proudly, 'for it seems their daughter, Maria Lucas has found a possible suitor and it is not one we'd expect.'

'It seems she might soon be engaged and though she did not tell me the name of the man, until I begged her to, she merely pointed at Maria, who blushing like a primrose, said they were expecting Colonel Fitzwilliam to visit soon!' she added bitterly.

Kitty put aside her cup and looked up alarmed, not battering and eyelid.

'So you mean to say, mama, that Maria is to be wed with the Colonel,' said Mary casually.

'It would appear so,' she replied in upset tones. 'Poor Colonel, I have no doubt he has been tricked into such engagement. Maria Lucas! Why that young girl cannot hold a candle to my dear Kitty.'

The mentioned daughter got up instantly.

'It is not right of you, mother, to compare us or to assume this news provokes me in the slightest. I've no interest to know to whom Maria is betrothed or if the Colonel has chosen _her_.'

With this said Kitty pardoned herself and went to her room.

Mary excused herself likewise and joined her sister, being concerned and indisposed as well, to hear her mama's complaints about not being given the rightful credit.

When she entered the room she found Kitty as angry as ever. It was not sadness that engulfed her, which should have been natural; she was irate.

'Kitty, explain yourself,' Mary said promptly.

'Oh, Mary do not be tedious now, for cannot you see the offence he has brought to me?'

'Of what offence do you speak of?'

'He has flirted with me and paid me many advances of courtship, admiring me solemnly, only then to run off to Maria Lucas!'

'Are you saying you are jealous?'

'Not in the least. Why should I? I have no such feelings for him, but it is so horrid of a man to play with me like that!'

Mary sat down on her bed and smiled shrewdly.

'If you feel nothing at all, then why do you think he has played with you?'

'It is just so that when a man pays attention to a woman it should be to that woman only!'

'True, yet when that lady chooses not to respond to such advances, he considers it adequate to cease the ridiculousness of it and engage the attention of a lady who might return his feelings,' she replied perfectly composed.

'But he admired me only! How can he be so fickle?'

'He expected you to admire him as well, but you had more to give to Mr. Prowler. Did you expect him to wait on you and court you forever?'

Kitty remained silent and dropped on her bed sourly.

'You probably think I am silly, like papa says…they all think I am for leaving the table like that,' she muttered.

'I do not think you silly, Catherine, just young and undecided. You cannot understand your own feelings, but if you searched deeper you might find an answer,' Mary said smiling.

'And what answer is that? For I hope you do not suppose I feel anything of the kind for him.'

Mary chose not to answer but simply took up a book to avoid Kitty's suspicious glares.

* * *

Five days passed, but no sooner had the fifth day come than the Colonel arrived at the Lucases in good spirits and wanting only good company to entertain him.

For several days he did not call on the Bennets and Kitty did not waste a minute to call him a most insolent man.

At length, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were invited to dine with them along with their daughters.

The Lucases put up a wonderful meal in their dining room, which was fairly modest yet fitted for such occasions.

The large oak table with elm chairs and laced tablecloth, the pretty and delicate china, as well as the sombrous chandelier which reigned above their heads gave the scene a ceremonious atmosphere.

Kitty looked as beautiful as ever, as she had taken great care with her apparel and as she sat opposite Colonel Fitzwilliam, he often cast a glance or two at her.

'It is so good to have you in our neighbourhood, Colonel, why we were just thinking of inviting you ourselves,' said Mrs. Bennet happily though with less tact than Mary had wished.

'I am most happy to be here myself, Mrs. Bennet and to be in such lovely company,' he replied and Maria, who was sitting next to him, blushed slightly.

Kitty frowned. 'Miss Maria, I heard some time ago you were considering taking the veil, is it still on your mind?' she asked insolently.

Maria's blush deepened and knew not how to reply.

'I believe I've changed my mind, Miss Bennet, thank you for inquiring,' she replied at length.

'I only ask out of concern for your numerous suitors who would not want to be disappointed,' she said eyeing the Colonel who, though looked offended, had a strange twinkle in his eye which showed he was half-amused.

Kitty smiled pleasantly and Mary rolled her eyes at such discourse.

'I hope you are no longer ill, Colonel,' Mary dared say. 'It was a pity we could not see more of you while in Kent.'

'Thank you, Miss Bennet, I am in strong health I dare say, but I did curse my weak disposition when I could not come and visit you,' he replied refusing to look at Kitty.

'We all felt dejected, I am sure,' Catherine said playing with her fork.

Dinner went by smoothly afterwards, most of the youths remaining quiet throughout the meal, but soon the card tables were drawn up and small parties were formed across the drawing room to which they repaired in due course.

The Colonel would not depart from Maria, thus joined her and Mrs. Bennet in a light conversation as Kitty, Mary and Lady Lucas engaged themselves in talking and having some tea on the other side of the room.

'How impertinent of him not to give us any attention,' Kitty whispered to her sister.

Mary had many an opportunity to burst into laughter, for both her sister and the Colonel stole odd glances at each other for the rest of the evening. However, each tried to look as composed and good-humoured as possible.

At some point, he and Catherine faced one another as they stood watching the cards game between Mr. Bennet and Sir Lucas. Kitty supported her father as Fitzwilliam stood by his future father-in-law's side. It was a silly contest, but whoever won would be fatal for them.

Mr. Bennet lost most painfully which threw Kitty in an uproar as she believed the game had not been quite fair.

'Why, Miss Bennet, I believe Sir Lucas deserves his win quite fairly, since he has defeated even Darcy in a game once or twice.'

Kitty huffed and puffed but she retired without another word, insisting they should leave immediately.

At length the carriage was brought and they departed with invitations to the Colonel of joining them at their humble abode at least once.

When they arrived home, Mary expected Kitty would start accusing and insulting angrily, but she remained silent even though Mrs. Bennet commented most arduously at the Colonel being an honourable yet naïve man, to be ensnared in such a way by the Lucases.

Only when they were both in bed, with the quilts to their neck did she mumble some words.

'He loathes me, I can tell,' she said.

Mary stood in one elbow on her pillow, looking at her sister confused.

'Whatever made you think that?'

'Did not you see the way he ignored me tonight? How he could not betray his affection for Maria and how much he dotes on her…'

'Kitty I am afraid I have some awful news to give,' Mary said sitting up and looking most solemnly.

'Oh, pray, let it not be something about him,' Kitty muttered.

'I really do fear that now, more than ever, the Colonel is most helplessly in love.'

'Ah! I knew such a thing, why do you make such jests!'

'Yes, most passionately in love with Catherine Bennet,' she continued seriously.

Kitty stared at her bedazzled.

'Mary! How dare you make fun of it?'

'Make fun? I am most deliberately serious. Did not you notice, sister that he could hardly stop staring at you all the evening?'

'Whatever do you mean? He only had eyes for Miss Lucas.'

'Then perhaps you need spectacles my dear Kitty, for you two could only spare attention to each other, though in the cruellest and most peculiar kind.'

'Each other? We barely talked.'

'And that was enough for there was no need for words. Your behaviour showed everything clearly.'

'La! You tease me so!'

'Though I must say, I am happy you two can communicate without conversing, for Heaven knows what would come of you two discussing like normal people!'

Kitty threw a pillow at Mary, but missed most unfortunately, though such an object could not silence her sister.

Mary blew out the candle as always, but Kitty was bent on not letting her rest.

'You shouldn't read so many novels, Mary, you start making ideas and schemes which only belong in books.'

'And aren't books inspired by life? In any case, Catherine, what is the extent of your feelings regarding the Colonel?' she asked seriously.

This silenced Kitty and both soon fell asleep.

* * *

The next week brought autumn even closer, as September was half-way gone and Kitty and Mary decided to go and see to their apples and plums which grew proudly in the orchard near their home.

They much wanted to delight their mother and father by bringing some freshly ripened fruit for tarts and casual small meals.

Kitty especially loved those trees as she considered them her children and took great care of them, thus they both went on the errand as soon as they could.

Catherine was well known for being able to climb the tallest tree without a sigh, while Mary could only aid her in collecting and sorting the fruit in baskets, for she dreaded to even jump a thicket.

The afternoon, though cool and lonely, was very refreshing and beautiful, as the sun glided peacefully along the branches and clouds.

'Look at all this beauty, Mary, Hertfordshire is not to be trifled with, you know,' Kitty said dreamily.

'Yes, a most breathtaking sight,' she agreed.

They reached the orchard and Kitty was soon searching through the branches for the best apples.

Their labour passed in pleasant silence, with occasional demands from Kitty and it was soon perceived that two baskets alone could not provide for the load they had to take home.

'Go home, Mary and fetch another one,' Kitty said as she climbed another tree.

'Oh and take this full basket with you and bring it back empty,' she added.

Mary obeyed silently and taking one full basket in her arm she hurried back home.

Kitty went on with her work, dropping some of the apples and looking wistfully through the branches, at the dying red sun which pierced the hills above.

Suddenly she heard movement. She looked around her but no one was in sight.

'Mary is that you?' No answer came.

Some minutes passed before Kitty resumed her task, stopping once in a while to look at the sunset.

'Miss Bennet, are you up in that tree?'

The voice rang in her ears and so baffled and surprised was she that without noticing she let go of the branches as her feet glided down and she fell unceremoniously, yelling with fright.

With eyes closed she made ready for her fall, but instead was even more surprised to find herself safe and sound, in two strong arms, resting her head against a broad chest.

She fluttered her eyelids open.

She now saw she had landed on the poor Colonel who had collapsed with her on the ground, holding her tightly.

She was in his arms, her hands encircling his neck as she trembled with shock. He was very much amazed himself but tried to comfort her by patting her gently on her hair.

'Oh, how frightening…I am so sorry, Sir, I had no intention…but you startled me so,' she said gulping for air.

'Do not worry yourself Miss Bennet…you were lucky I was here to catch you,' he smiled out of breath himself.

'Oh, but I probably broke your back,' she said not making any attempt at getting up.

'On the contrary, you were as light as a feather, I dare say, you must only feed on these apples here,' he replied laughing.

She smiled and without any sort of embarrassment, leaned forward to grasp an apple near his head.

'Oh you must have some, Sir, they are quite delicious,' she replied showing him the apple.

Using her feeble little hands she tried to divide the apple in two, but without success.

'Here, let me,' he intervened touching her hands gently as he took the apple from her. Kitty blushed self-consciously.

At length, the Colonel split the apple and gave one share to Kitty who started eating hungrily.

'Is not this place so peaceful and wonderful?' she inquired trying to eat the core.

'Most indeed…' he said silently, blushing slightly.

Some minutes passed before it dawned on them they were in a most suspicious and embarrassing position, one atop another, like secret country lovers eating apples and holding each other.

Kitty quickly got up apologising and the Colonel himself could only mumble some poor excuse, for, a man cannot atone for his mistakes if he does not truly consider them mistakes.

They stood in silence for so long that Mary soon arrived with the two empty baskets.

'Colonel Fitzwilliam!' Mary exclaimed surprised. 'I did not expect you here, Sir…' she said, but upon inspecting Kitty's flushed face she guessed something must have come to pass.

'Miss Bennet, a pleasure to see you again, but I am afraid I must be going now,' he said bowing to them and leaving quickly, with nervous movements.

As soon as he left Mary turned towards Kitty and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

'Kitty, what happened to your dress?'

'What do you mean?' Kitty replied smoothing it up.

Mary smiled and remained quiet as no more than five words were heard between them until they finished.

Three days passed but it brought the Colonel to dine with the Bennets as he had promised.

Kitty was very much quiet and embarrassed all throughout the dinner and could barely look at him as her cheeks were as red as a tomato.

Mary tried to make conversation between them, but the Colonel could not address Catherine without flushing himself.

'Have you more news from Derbyshire?' Mary inquired.

'I haven't been there since August, thus I will find out more when I depart, though…I do hope I can stay longer,' he said casting a quick look in Kitty's direction.

'Do you like walking, Sir?' Catherine asked all of a sudden looking up.

'I am very fond of it, Miss Bennet,' he smiled.

'Then let us take a walk some time with my sister and…Maria, if she so wishes…' she said shyly.

'I would be delighted…' he said nodding and refraining from saying more.

Mrs. Bennet's prattle was borne by Mary only as she suspected Kitty and the Colonel did not even perceive her and her father was much used to ignoring her.

Nearly a week passed for the Colonel to call and inquire about the promised walk and was on that very day ready to join Kitty and Mary seeing as, unfortunately, Maria was visiting Mrs. Long.

Mary much suspected the Colonel had chosen this day on purpose but said nothing of the kind.

On discovering her father had affairs in Meryton that day, she volunteered to join him, no matter how much she despised to go into town.

Thus she paid her excuses to them both for not being able to join them, though she could have sworn she saw half a smile cross his lips and her eyes wink slightly.

Mary smiled knowingly, thinking some time alone could help them both make a decision.

She repaired with her father to town and spent most of the afternoon in book shops, praying that her sister would admit her feelings to him, for she was most sure Kitty felt strong affection for the Colonel.

Both father and daughter returned home after some tedious hours, walking slowly through the meadows and brown grass.

'Why did you not join Kitty and the Colonel, Mary? For I doubt you sacrificed it for the pleasure of town atmosphere,' he said all of a sudden.

'Oh, I considered they should have affairs to discuss and I would be standing in their way.'

'Why should you stand in their way, Mary? Unless…their friendship is more than I supposed…' he said slowly.

'Papa, you suspect so much already,' she said laughing.

'Well, I can't say Miss Lucas isn't fitted for nunnery…as Kitty put it so _politely_ that evening…it's natural for me to doubt…'

'Oh, it is natural for you papa, to take pleasure in insulting so ironically and casually that no one can take trouble with you. But depend upon it this shrewd behaviour will cost you dearly once you see the folly of your presumptions, for a father's wish is always granted.'

Mr. Bennet smiled knowingly and turned his head to look at the hills in the horizon.

'Mary dear…I always hoped you would turn out like your elder sisters and it seems Lizzie's wit is not absent from your tongue. I should suffer greatly, if it were.'

'With a family as ours there is always reason for wit and sharp tongue…' she said quietly.

'True…it is true…and one shouldn't fear using that tongue. If we remain quiet for far too long we might give the wrong impression,' he said eyeing her significantly.

They said no more, for their understanding was as good as possible.

They reached home happily and Mr. Bennet retired to his library as usual, but upon entering the hall, Mary discovered Kitty was standing at the door, tears falling down her cheeks fast.

'Oh, Kitty? What has happened? Is it the Colonel?' Mary asked concerned.

She shook her head mumbling incoherent words.

In her hand she held an open letter.

Mrs. Bennet, who had been attending the garden, came inside surprised to know what the matter was.

'Kitty? What on Earth?'

She wiped her tears and sniffed her nose loudly as she dropped the letter.

'It's…it's…f-from L-Lydia…'

Mary held her breath.

_Is it about Mr. Prowler? _She wondered.

Kitty drew up another gasp.

'Mr. …Mr. W-Wickham…is…dead!'


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Black dress

Mary looked dumbfounded at her crying sister.

'Kitty, what did you just say?' Mrs. Bennet whispered approaching.

'Mr. Wickham is dead!' she shrieked.

Mary bowed down to get the letter and skimmed through it quickly.

'Dead in battle?' Mary exclaimed.

'It's all written there…' Kitty said sitting on the stairs.

'Oh, pray, make haste Mary, what does it say?'

'Mr. Wickham's regime had gone to Ireland for the civil riot, but it seems he was discovered dead, shot in the head, with his face disfigured from the flames in which he was found…' Mary said while reading.

'Good Lord!' Mrs. Bennet yelled fanning herself as she leaned against the banister.

'Lydia has identified the body with his. His funeral was but some days ago…oh, God…I know we are averse to his character, but no one wished him dead…' Mary said more to herself.

'How could it have happened so?' Kitty remarked as her tears dried up. 'Why poor, unfortunate Wickham?'

'Oh, he was a soldier my dear, a man in the service of the country…and this is the price he must pay…the sacrifice,' Mrs. Bennet said solemnly bowing her head as if she was mourning.

Mary thought the speech was exaggerated, but at such times she understood it was necessary not to dwell on his ill behaviour.

Mr. Bennet was much surprised himself, though he could not bring himself to shed a tear. His concern, though unsuspected by none and hidden very well, was for his youngest daughter Lydia, who now remained a widow at almost seventeen.

They all sat in the drawing room, discussing it in detail. Kitty was now perfectly calm but in low spirits and both she and Mary tried to calm their mama, who suddenly realised that Lydia would have much hardship to overcome from now on and that the poor girl was probably shattered.

'Let us hope God shall rest his tormented soul,' Mr. Bennet added languidly.

'Oh, Mr. Bennet, our darling Lydia must be in such pain! To be a widow! And she's but a child! Imagine she had to identify the body…oh, poor creature! How shall she ever find happiness again?'

'Perhaps she can marry again, mama,' Kitty said quietly.

'But of course she will, I'll see to that, but I know she shall never be the same, poor child shall never recover! Only a truly worthy man could make her forget,' she said as new tears glistened at the corner of her eyes.

'Papa, what shall we do now?' Mary ventured to ask.

Some minutes passed in silence.

'Lydia is still in Newcastle, I understand,' he said at length. 'Thus…I suppose…'

'Oh, she must come home immediately Mr. Bennet! She has no home anymore!' Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

Mr. Bennet sighed. 'After all she has done, she would rather deserve to bear this alone…'

'Papa, that is crude…' Kitty spoke up looking more at Mary than at him.

'Crude is what she did to us…'

'Yet she is your daughter!' Mrs. Bennet shrieked crying harder than before.

'Papa, surely…Lydia must have changed…this must have changed her…she has grown,' Mary said quietly.

'She is now a woman above Jane, for all she has gone through…' her mother said between sobs.

Mr. Bennet looked sad and dejected, but could only admit he cared for Lydia and did not wish her to be miserable.

'We shall do as your mother wishes…' he said at length.

Mrs. Bennet instantly sprang up.

'Oh, Mr. Bennet, you finally saw reason,' she said through choked breaths as she now tried to wipe her tears.

'However, she will never have my forgiveness, what she has done is unpardonable,' he said acidly.

Mrs. Bennet chose to ignore this and now only wanted to write a letter to her daughter, begging her to come home as soon as possible.

Kitty and Mary both went upstairs, not wanting to bother the already indisposed father and crazed mother.

'Lydia will come for sure,' Kitty said slowly as she sat at the window.

'Yes, it would seem so…she'll find comfort in seeing you Kitty,' Mary replied meekly.

Kitty shrugged and looked at her hands and her dress.

'How was the walk?' Mary asked as she sat on the bed.

'Very pleasant…' Kitty mumbled.

'What do you…' she started.

'Do you think Lydia would approve of…of Mr. Fitzwilliam?'

Mary stared.

'Why would she not?'

'She wouldn't…he seems boring and…not much fun for a young person…' she said.

'Of course this is her opinion, not yours,' Mary added.

'Yes, but…perhaps she knows better.'

'Kitty, you cannot be serious…even if Lydia does not accept your connection…'Mary mumbled angrily.

'I do not want to upset her.'

'I don't understand.'

'She'll laugh at me too…' she added sadly.

'Why should she laugh?' Mary asked bewildered.

'She knows how men are…she has had so many conquests.'

'And yet she married a rascal with no money or character who ended up dead on the battle field...'

'Mary!'

'I apologise…I shouldn't have said that…I never wished Wickham any harm, but you must not listen to Lydia blindly.'

Silence engulfed the room.

'When she comes, I suspect she'll want to sleep in this room with me, like we used to,' Kitty said looking at Mary sadly.

'Oh…so you want me gone to my old room?' Mary asked flatly.

'No…I meant…only for a while,' she said.

'I see…I shall retire there this evening,' she muttered getting up.

'Mary…I do not think of Lydia so greatly as you think, it's just…we've been so close throughout the years, it's hard to be apart.'

'I know that well Kitty, fret not, Lydia needs much support and comforting from us all, I understand your motifs,' Mary said softly, smiling.

Kitty dared a shy smile back.

* * *

The letter was soon sent to Lydia, bidding her to come to Longbourn at once and in the course of a week she was found in Hertfordshire, on her parents' threshold.

She was dressed in a very elegant, large black dress, with too short a trimming, one might add and an opening at her neck far too wide for a recent widow, but she really was a wretched sight to behold, with her braided hair gliding down her shoulders and her tired, worn face looking at them sadly.

'Oh, Lydia, my love, how you must have suffered! I am so sorry for what happened, dear child if I could have but spared you from such pain!' her mother said in high tones as she embraced her tightly.

'Oh, mama, it was horrid, simply horrid!' she said sighing and placing her head on her mother's shoulder.

'But you will forget my dear. In time, you shall…'

'Oh, without my dear angel Wickham,' she replied disengaging herself from her arms and looking for her sisters.

'Kitty! Oh, how I missed you,' she said throwing her arms around her sister's neck. 'And Mary!' she said taking her hand into hers and holding it to her chest, 'see how my heart is broken?'

Mary would have replied only that she could but feel the cold touch of the silver necklace that hung from her neck.

Mr. Bennet welcomed her in a cordial and simple manner, asking some trivial questions and hastening out of their way as soon as possible.

Lydia was trying her utmost to be as civil as possible and to show superiority, knowledge of pain beyond the comprehension of her two sisters, even her mother.

The ring she had been so proud of was now sealed in a small box she kept in her purse and on being asked why she did so, she replied she could not bare the sight of it, of all it reminded her of, though others were more inclined to think she was trying to ignore the fact that she had ever been married.

The day she came home, Mary moved back into her old little room, which, though allowed her to think freely and read in peace, gave her little joy when it came to conversing as the chamber was on the East side of the house, away from most members of her family.

She did not much suffer over it, but only hoped Kitty would not fall under Lydia's influence again and she knew the only means possible for it not happening was her future engagement to the Colonel.

Two weeks passed during which Lydia seemed, or at least tried to seem, a pained widow, mourning desperately for the love of her life. She went out and walked only with Kitty, retelling her happy adventures at Newcastle, when Wickham was alive, though few related to the deceased man.

Since most of her time was spent inside, Kitty could safely have a walk with the Colonel or call on Lady Lucas, though every day it became harder to ignore the truth from Lydia and everyday she grew more distant and fearful until the Colonel could not make sense of it.

Mary was very much angered and incited because of this new turn and wished Lydia were not such an impediment to her sister's happiness.

After those two weeks, however, an odd sight met the family when Lydia went to call on all her old friends and neighbours, to account for her coming home and tell them all of her sufferance.

Every day she was visiting someone else, every day she was smiling shyly at all who encouraged her not to give up hope, every day she seemed to turn back into her old self.

She no longer moaned and sighed at dinner, but talked lively and somewhat bitterly about her fate and the black dress which did not suit her at all.

She no longer remembered happy moments at Newcastle, but begged Kitty to tell her all the new gossip in town, each night.

Lydia's recovery amazed all Hertfordshire, but only one meeting, one eventful afternoon, showed Lydia had kept her old character.

Kitty had been very quiet about the Colonel, though Lydia had found out of his staying at the Lucases. She had met him briefly on her visit at the mentioned family, but found in him a likeness to Mr. Collins she could not bear. She was certain he would marry Maria Lucas and even made allusions to their being settled happily, though the Colonel could only murmur some words of gratitude, much embarrassed.

Thus, being the end of a sad October and the weather not being harsh as in other days, the two sisters went out to enjoy two hours in the serenity of the proud meadows.

It so happened that the Colonel was walking towards their home, with the intention to visit, when he saw them cross the small white bridge of the river, talking merrily.

'Good day, Miss Bennet,' he said as he approached them, bowing politely and kissing Kitty's hand.

She instantly blushed and wished she were somewhere else.

'Good day, Colonel, what brings you here?' asked Lydia.

'I was on my way to your house, I wanted to see how you are bearing up with the tragedy which shocked us all…' he replied though much was to be guessed in his countenance which showed he meant to see only one person.

'Oh, it has been nearly a month and we are perfectly well,' Lydia said impolitely.

'Oh, yes, perfectly well…' Kitty muttered meekly.

'Miss Catherine, you seem out of sorts,' the Colonel said concerned.

'Oh, I was simply…'

'It is nothing to be worried about, Sir,' Lydia said quickly, 'she is not used to this cool weather, though I must declare I have survived quite well in the North where this climate is summer in comparison…'

The Colonel looked at Kitty intensely but she bowed her head, not daring to look up.

'Well, then, perhaps I shall call another time,' he said slowly, bowing slightly and bidding them goodbye.

As soon as he was gone, Lydia started giggling with insolence.

'Oh, what a boring, tedious man! Did you see his cape? It had smears of dirt on it, for sure!'

Kitty did not breathe a word, only nodded absently as she looked back for the Colonel.

As they returned home, Lydia instantly started chatting with her mother about the happenings of the day, not forgetting to add how they were rudely interrupted by Colonel Fitzwilliam.

'Oh, yes the Colonel is a much older man, so you must understand…'Mrs. Bennet replied amused.

Mary looked at Kitty who was sitting on the stool in front of her piano, a most ridiculous sight since she had never even tried playing. She tried smiling and looking good humoured, but it failed miserably and Mary could see well how much the meeting had affected her.

* * *

Some days later, the Bennets received an invitation to dinner from Mrs. Long who wanted to reunite some of the families of the neighbourhood as winter was approaching fast and plans for entertainment would have to be made promptly.

Lydia was very happy to hear of such news and decided she must help the ladies on their schemes of balls and parties, though she did not intently talk so, for she wished not to stain her appearance of a respectable widow.

It is hard for a seventeen year old girl to preserve such pious behaviour against her own will and half the times Mary noticed Lydia would have rather laughed than smiled.

The night of the big dinner came, with not so much excitement for Kitty, who wished not to confront the Colonel in the presence of her sister.

Lydia was in the lavatory getting dressed and Kitty wondered why ever since she came back, her sister had accepted to undress only in the intimacy of that small crammed room, when before, she had always torn off her clothes in front of Kitty, without a shame.

'Oh, this wretched dress!' Lydia yelled puffing.

'Wear another one then,' Kitty said from the other room.

'You ninny, I cannot wear another one, I am husbandless and this is my punishment.'

'But that dress is so large and uncomfortable, I am sure Mary has dark coloured dressed which are much more…'

'Pshaw! I shall not borrow anything from her! And in any case, the dress must be large.'

Silence was dropped like a veil and Kitty said no more.

Suddenly, she heard strange noises from the lavatory, as if someone was choking.

'Lydia, are you alright?'

She received no answer though the muffled sounds made it seem as if she was in great pain.

'Lydia?' she asked approaching the door.

'Lydia, please come out.'

The sounds increased in volume and now Kitty was truly worried.

'Lydia, open this door right now. Lydia!'

Kitty tried getting in, but it was locked.

'Lydia, do not make me do something so unbefitting a lady!' she said intending to break the door down.

A great thud was heard as if somebody had fallen on the floor.

Kitty shrieked and pounded on the door.

Sighing, she stepped back and pushed the door as hard as she could. After consecutive tries, she finally managed to get in.

Kitty instantly wished she had not opened the door. The sight that met her was by no means something she would have wanted to see.

Lydia was sprawled, on her knees, holding her stomach, as she vomited all that she had eaten during the day in a large, horrid looking heap in front of her.

'L-Lydia…what in the world…'

'Go away, Kitty!' she yelled trying to get up. It is then that Catherine noticed the growing belly which Lydia was trying to cover.

'Lydia! You are…you are with child!'

'I am not!' she yelled and crying knelt on the floor again.

Some minutes passed before Kitty lay down with her as well.

'Lydia…why did you not tell anyone?'

'I was ashamed…ashamed that…oh, dear Lord, ashamed that I am no longer beautiful…I am deformed! And the embarrassment of having a child at my age, with a dead father!'

'But that is no reason of embarrassment…women look beautiful when they…'Kitty said weakly.

'Oh, shut up!' she said sourly.

'Will you tell mama and papa?'

'I'll have to…for I do not trust you to keep it quiet.'

'They will be very happy, I am sure.'

'I am not, however.'

Lydia got up and started to clean the dirt and vomit as she fetched her black dress and hastily put it on.

'You do not mean you are still going tonight!'

'Oh, yes, I am, but do not fret, I shall tell mama and papa first thing tomorrow morning…but let us enjoy the time remained.'

'The time remained?'

'Until everyone knows of…this,' she said pointing at her stomach.

Kitty said no more, shocked as she was and both girls prepared silently to go down to the carriage.

Mrs. Bennet was arranging Mary's bonnet in the hall and for the first time approached her on a much dreaded subject.

'Now, Mary, look sharp, you need more outings in society, for I do not want you to end up an old maid with no opportunity or prospects. I hear Mr. Abbot's son is joining his father tonight.'

'Mama, Michael Abbot is fourteen,' she said irritated.

'And what of it? You are but nineteen yourself, it is high time this old prejudice of age ended. If men can marry much younger women, why cannot women…'

'Come now, Mrs. Bennet, let Mary breathe a while,' Mr. Bennet said coming from the library as his daughter smiled relieved.

The two other sisters soon came down and the party was off to Mrs. Long's house.

Kitty had good reason to dread the event, for as soon as she arrived she spotted the Colonel sitting with a few men of the neighbourhood at a cards table.

He immediately came to make his addresses to the family and kissed Kitty's hand gently though she hardly looked at him as she found her black boots far more interesting.

Mary and Mr. Bennet retired quickly to a chess table and were engaged in their game when Mrs. Bennet came in an uproar.

'Mary! What are you doing here, playing trifles with your father? For heaven's sake come and meet the ladies and gentlemen,' she said dragging her across the drawing room, leaving Mr. Bennet in a dejected state, alone at the chess table. When he looked down he noticed Mary was a move away from check mate.

Mary thought it could be worse; she could be a wretched widow like Lydia, begging for attention and pity. Then again, at this moment, there wasn't much difference between them seeing as dozens of mothers surrounded her, proclaiming she had qualities of a parson's wife.

Mrs. Long especially, who liked her for her calm disposition that suited her racked nerves, employed in conversing with her on matters so serious, yet so boring that Mary herself couldn't suppress a yawn, no matter how much she enjoyed sermons.

She looked across the room, but could not yet find Kitty.

At length, they were all seated for dinner and Mary found herself close to the Colonel, while, ironically and sadly, Lydia had dragged Kitty to the other end of the table, where the youngest sister was telling a young gentleman how much she suffered and how hard it was to be a widow at her age, picking an invisible lint from the gentleman's coat from time to time.

Kitty had no appetite, though she had eaten nothing at all the entire day, an advice Lydia gave her so she could fit in her dress, though looking back on it, it was a cynical remark when her sister was already out of shape, what with her pregnancy.

She often looked at the Colonel, but only when he wasn't watching, which wasn't exactly hard as several meters separated them.

'Miss Bennet, I am so glad I am able to chat with you a while,' the Colonel said turning towards Mary.

'I am equally pleased, we have not shared our accounts for a long time.'

'How is everything at home? Is Miss Lydia in much pain?'

'She is bearing it surprisingly well, she has found her…happy disposition once again…in fact I'd rather say she is in much pain that she cannot discard the mourning clothes…'she replied.

'Any young woman of seventeen would act the same, depend upon it,' he said smiling.

'Perhaps…yet her odd behaviour is hindering others...' she said eyeing him.

'Is Miss Catherine well?' he asked all of a sudden.

Mary smiled. 'Not as well as I wish she would be.'

'Nothing bothering her, I hope?' he asked looking at Kitty who was talking to Lydia.

'Not much…perhaps the absence of her friends…she must take care of her sister …that brings some stress upon her,' Mary said.

'I understand…'

Dinner was very tedious, in Kitty's opinion for it could not have passed slower. She much wanted to be able to know what the Colonel and Mary were talking about, yet she dared not make Lydia too suspicious.

After the meal was over Lydia led Kitty to a corner where the ladies had gathered and were gossiping about the new shop of gowns which had opened some days ago in Meryton.

Mary could not find her father throughout the crowd and disappointedly dropped into a chair, thinking she much wanted to be at home.

The music started, however and a small dance was prepared for the couples who wanted "a bit of sport" as Mrs. Long put it for she admitted, modestly, this could barely be called a dancing party.

A small area of the room was cleared for the few couples that dared and though many mothers whispered outraged at the eccentricities of old Mrs. Long and some gentlemen chuckled disdainfully at this poor arrangement, everyone was generally pleased with such oddity.

Lydia turned to look at the assembly and laughed good-heartedly.

'Of, for Pete's sake, how embarrassing, who would want to dance like that?' she asked mockingly as the other ladies laughed and fanned themselves with studied elegance.

Kitty crossed her fingers and smiled sadly.

'Miss Bennet.'

She turned abruptly. The Colonel was standing in front of her.

'Ladies, I hope you are enjoying yourselves,' he said amiably as one or two of them started giggling.

'Miss Catherine…' he started again, 'may I have this dance?'

Kitty stared at him bewildered, but her eyes were softened with pleasure and she was about to raise her hand to his when she caught Lydia smirking at her and making strange signs in the direction of the gentleman.

She quickly reconsidered.

'I would like to, but I'm afraid I am very tired, Sir, some other time…' she said feebly.

His disappointed look pierced her heart deeply and he only bowed respectfully and walked away.

As soon as he was gone all the girls started laughing insolently.

'What an old dog!'

'Ah, professing admiration to poor Kitty!'

'Ridiculous!'

'Oh, but Kitty would never accept so low an offer,' Lydia said pressing her sister's hand.

Kitty smiled weakly.

This sad event had not missed Mary and, though not as distressed as Kitty, she could but presume how miserable her sister felt.

_Oh, wicked Lydia…_she couldn't help thinking.

For the rest of the evening, Kitty laughed and forced herself to forget, though she could barely suppress her looks.

Mary managed to find her father and informed him that Kitty was not feeling well and for the sake of her spirits, they should leave immediately. This was said in such serious tones that Mr. Bennet decided to take her advice as it was late and he disliked his companion, an old farmer who knew not what a bishop was at chess.

Mrs. Bennet, though lively and talkative admitted to being tired and there being nothing else to do, since Mary had not talked to any young man and Kitty and Lydia had remained in that small corner throughout the evening.

The Bennets thus soon took leave of the party, with Lydia complaining the noise had much distressed her.

As they arrived at their carriage, Kitty saw with horror that the Colonel was taking his leave as well.

He saw her from afar and nodded politely, though sadness could be depicted in his eyes. Kitty feigned to go to him, but Lydia grasped her arm tightly and pulled her towards the carriage.

'Come now, Kitty, stop looking after beaus.'

The Colonel turned and entered the carriage quickly, driving away without noticing Kitty had not yet got in.

If he had stayed but a minute longer, he would have perhaps seen the saddest, most pained and mortified look that a young girl could have expressed through her eyes, as she looked at the spot where his carriage had been with much shattered illusions.

That night, while Lydia was snoring loudly beside Kitty, she silently got up and went out of the room, not being able to shut an eye.

Kitty wondered through the house aimlessly but finally came to Mary's room and knocked slowly.

Not receiving an answer, she turned the knob and entered the small room. As she sat on Mary's bed, the inhabitant opened her eyes slowly.

'Kitty?' she asked sleepily. 'What are you doing here?'

'Mary, I…'

'Do you want me to light a candle?'

'No…it is much better like this.'

'Kitty, I saw how dreadful you looked tonight.'

'It was nothing.'

Mary sighed frustrated and got up, sitting beside Kitty.

'Do not let Lydia ruin your happiness…you shall deeply regret it.'

'What happiness can you mean? After tonight, I doubt the Colonel shall ever speak to me again.'

'I do not think the same…he…really does love you Kitty.'

'I don't…I don't love him,' Kitty whispered. 'I do…care, but I don't feel anything of the kind. Yet I owe him many things.'

'Then perhaps it's better for him to be out of your way since you cannot return his feelings.'

Kitty clenched her fists and looked at Mary oddly.

'No…'

'But the poor man suffers…'

'So do I,' she said hotly.

'Yet you do not…'

'Love him, that's right,' Catherine replied looking away.

'Then…'

'I can't sleep.'

'Oh…do you want to stay here?' Mary asked politely.

'Will you not be upset?'

'Why should I?'

'I…I made you return to this little room,' she said shyly.

'I like my solitude.'

Kitty did not say anything more, but crawled in the sheets next to her sister.

'Will…will I ever see him again?' she mumbled inaudibly.

'Did you say something, Kitty?'

'Nothing at all.'

* * *

Morning came with bad weather and icy roads as November was now approaching and one could not go around the house without a flannel.

Mr. Bennet was reading his newspaper as he sipped from his cup and Lydia was eating toast and butter at the other end of the table.

On waking up, Lydia had not been alarmed not to find Kitty with her, presuming she had got up earlier, but now she looked curiously around, as if searching for her sister.

Mrs. Bennet came in lazily and placed herself at the head of the table, bidding her good mornings to her daughter.

'Oh, I wish those lazy girls could be like my Lydia, so fresh at this early hour.'

As if on a call Mary came down joined by Kitty who, though indisposed, looked more tired from a sleepless night.

They both sat down to breakfast and some trifle conversation soon ensued. Mary wanted to attempt to soothe her sister's spirits thus she dared confront her mother on a subject on which she soon found out she would have done much better to remain quiet.

'Mama, perhaps we should call on the Lucases today, to talk more of the winter plans, since nothing was established last night.'

Mr. Bennet looked up from his newspaper, but Mary smiled knowingly at him.

'Oh, why trouble yourself my dear, we would find only petty people, troubled by their own ignorance,' she said bitterly.

Mary looked confused.

'I received a note from Lady Lucas which informed me Colonel Fitzwilliam left Hertfordshire last night to rush to Derbyshire, since he insisted he could not stay longer. Of course, the man did not even hint at the engagement between him and Maria. She's afraid all has gone off and is in bad spirits…so is her daughter of course so there's no use to try and deal with them,' she said.

Mary instantly looked at Kitty who had stopped eating and simply looked down, without moving.

After some moments she raised her head and smiled.

'Has gone off you say? Probably…Maria will become a nun for sure,' she said laughing ironically.

Mary stared at her.

Breakfast went on with no further remark on this subject and when Kitty, Mary and Lydia made to go into the parlour, Catherine stopped near the stairs whispering to Mary.

'I am perfectly well, do not worry yourself. Knowing that Maria Lucas will not have him either brings me great joy.'

Mary sat on the stairs, looking in front of her sadly and contemplating how all this had gone wrong.

In the parlour, Kitty however, had started pestering Lydia.

'Tell them, Lydia, you promised.'

'Not this morning please…' she mumbled lazily.

'Tell them or I will,' Kitty said weakly.

'Tell what, my dear?' Mrs. Bennet asked entering the room.

Mary stared at the pieces of dust on the banister and thought she should perhaps write a letter to the Colonel, trying to explain Kitty's behaviour, but she realised it would have been a ridiculous trial.

A loud yelp brought her to her feet. It came from the parlour.

'With child?' Miss Bennet shrieked as she dropped on the sofa, fanning herself rapidly.

'Now, mama, recollect yourself, I am a widow, I can have children, can I not?' Lydia said briskly, not being aware of the paradoxical sense of her words.

'Oh, Lydia, my baby…pregnant! And you didn't say a word!'

Mary stood in the doorway at a loss for words.

'That is why I was wearing those horrid dresses mama,' she explained bored.

Kitty tried comforting her mother, thinking she was perhaps in despair, but as soon as Lydia and she started telling her of it in detail she sprang up, wiped the sweat from her forehead and started calling for Mr. Bennet.

'Oh, glorious day! Jane and now you! It is as fate wants it! Oh, how happy I should be with so many grandchildren to keep me company on my dying bed! Mr. Bennet! Oh, but Lydia, how could you have been ashamed? You are a most honourable woman!'

Mr. Bennet did not take the news as well as her mother and only thought this was a larger problem than everyone saw, for having no husband to provide for her, Lydia would have to raise her own child, with the help of her parents, unless she remarried.

Thus he sat down in his armchair by the fire, surprised and disappointed at having to bear witness to Lydia's fate. A grandchild was reason of joy and he did feel glad for it, but as a man of more than fifty, he knew the hardships of life could not be ignored with petty romance.

'You are going to be an auntie, Mary,' Lydia said amused.

'The goal of my entire existence, I am sure,' she replied but smiled.

'Now Lydia,' Mrs. Bennet started, having now the same thoughts as Mr. Bennet, regarding her daughter's marital status, 'it is most important for you to get married as soon as possible. I do not know how our family shall provide for a baby and Mr. Bennet, Lord knows how long he'll live. And you cannot bring up the baby by yourself, not at this age…and we cannot afford a governess.'

Lydia, instead of souring and becoming fearful, only became happier, for this meant she was to go out in society again and seek a match, her favourite thing to do in the world.

Of course, she realised it wouldn't be the same, what with her growing belly, but somehow, a wily smile remained plastered on her face all throughout Mrs. Bennet's speech as if she knew exactly what to do.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Winter coming

The Bingleys and the Darcys were equally shocked at finding out Wickham was dead, though it was safe to say Mr. Darcy did not much dwell on it, or suffer immensely. In fact, no one shed tears, but for Kitty and Lydia.

Their shock was much greater, however, when they received news of the youngest sister being pregnant. Though none bore an affinity with Lydia, all had some pity for her in those moments, for her fate seemed most horrid.

Charles wrote to the Bennets to air his grievances and to try to comfort them as best as he could, but in this letter he mentioned Mr. Prowler being "very much sad indeed of the happening and quite shocked himself".

The family thought he was referring to James' pity for them and probably for Kitty, who, he supposed, was suffering and to whom he was attached.

Only Mary and Lydia knew different and many a times Mary tried talking with her sister about it, but never found the opportunity since Kitty and she were inseparable and the youngest sister was keeping a most busy schedule what with her mother's hunt for a husband.

She thought it ridiculous not to be able to talk to her sister, but then again, even if chance came up, she knew she couldn't simply ask her the details. She might suspect and that would not end well.

Kitty in the meantime occupied herself with the garden once a week, tending to her chrysanthemums and helping out her mother.

It was upon such an occasion, that she found herself in front of the house, trimming some bushes when she saw a young person approaching across the meadow.

It was a young woman. She walked fast and briskly, with an air of timidity and irritability which puzzled Kitty.

'Miss Lucas! Good day,' she smiled and bowed. 'What brings you to our humble dwelling?'

Maria Lucas stopped short and made a stiff bow.

'Miss Bennet…' she said bluntly and without warning she slapped Kitty on the cheek hard. Catherine fell back shocked as she touched the red skin which now bore the shape of fingers on it.

'How dare…' she started.

'How dare I?' she asked ironically and threw a letter at Kitty after which she departed in a rush.

Kitty bowed down to get the letter and as she skimmed through it her face lit with joy and mirth. Though her eyes had a mischievous glint she seemed to be good-naturedly happy.

Mary found Lydia sitting in the parlour, examining some ribbons, quite alone and undisturbed. She knocked on the open door and entered quietly.

'Mary! Dear me, you barely go out of that room of yours, this is a surprise!'

'I'm sure it is…I meant to discuss something with you Lydia.'

'Discuss it then, I am occupied but my ears can hear perfectly well,' she replied indifferently.

Mary parted her lips to speak but no sooner did she make this vain effort than Kitty burst into the room, laughing with joy.

'Kitty what is wrong with you?' Lydia asked irritated. 'You are disturbing my peace, now kindly share the news if you have any.'

'Oh, just read this,' she managed to say and put the letter on the small table in front of them.

Both sisters bowed to read it and while one simply started giggling and making ironical innuendos, the other turned serious and looked worriedly at Kitty.

'Oh, amusing indeed, Miss Lucas will be the new spinster of the Shire,' Lydia exclaimed. 'And she needs not go to a nunnery, I am sure her home is the perfect institution for that!'

Mary read the letter again. There was no doubt about it. It was from the Colonel informing Miss Lucas, with sad regrets and guilty thoughts of having made her miserable, that he could no longer, for the sake of his and her happiness, keep the engagement. He hoped though, that she might find a man worthy of her kindness.

There was nothing amusing about this letter, or so Mary thought but she guessed Kitty was much happier that she had caused it rather than that Miss Lucas was now considered an old maid.

'Stop it you two, this is puerile,' Mary ventured to say.

'Oh, well, I suppose now, it is official. The Lucases can start sulking for all I care, since this is the second disappointment from their expected son-in-law,' Kitty replied.

Mary glared at her but remained quiet.

'Oh, but I simply must visit! I must see the looks on their faces whilst still fresh!' Lydia bellowed. 'And you must join me, Kitty!'

'No!' Kitty quickly whispered.

'Why ever not?' Lydia said getting up.

Catherine touched her cheek and turned away.

'If we go we will be expected to comfort Miss Lucas and I abhor complying with such demands…'

'Oh, very well then, I shall go with mama, I simply must hear what they have to say,' Lydia said skipping to her room.

Silence engulfed the parlour.

'What? Why are you looking at me like that?' Kitty asked nonplussed. 'You think I am to be blamed, don't you?'

'…I only wish you could be honest to yourself Catherine. Producing such pain to the Colonel, to Maria…to you, ah, it's all so foolish.'

'Foolish?'

'You are rejoicing in the prospect of him not marrying her, because then he would be available for whenever you changed your mind.'

'Oh, hush, what trifles you speak! Why would I want the Colonel to be single? After all, plenty of married men can allow themselves to offer attentions to young ladies…'

'That's preposterous! It's a terrible way to consider matters…if you had a husband you loved dearly you would want him to flirt with other women?'

'My dear Mary, if I ever had a husband he would never do that to _me._ It may happen to other ladies, but not I, for I know I must be everything to him.'

'So you would not mind the Colonel paying you attentions even if married?'

'Quite so…why should I? It's his fault only, for having such feelings.'

Mary got up and pulled some strands of hair from her face.

'Do you not care about him at all?' she asked quietly.

'I...you do not understand, it's true I …'

A shrilly and brash voice, followed by loud thumps on the stairs interrupted her. Lydia came down, in very high spirits, trying to tie her bonnet while with the other hand she pulled at her gown which could not hide the curves of her stomach.

'Ah, wretches!' she exclaimed.

'Not even a bit do I care about the Colonel,' Kitty said quickly. 'In fact, I think he's a miserable fool who should tie his fate to a woman past her prime rather than chase nuns.'

Lydia smirked. 'Not to mention, with his small yet considerable fortune, he could probably have in his service a younger maiden for some of …his attentions,' she said.

Kitty blushed and tried to laugh softly, but soured at the thought of such perversity.

'Ah, I would believe him capable of that, stupid man…' she muttered and went upstairs without another word.

'Lydia…' Mary started.

'Oh, I would take you with me, Mary, but I know the Lucases bore you so,' she said indifferently and exited the parlour as she went in search for her mother.

The elder sister sighed and looked at the letter again, then, with little consideration, threw it swiftly in the fire.

When Mary entered her sisters' room, she saw Kitty making her bed, puffing the pillows with anger and pulling at the mattress.

'What has gotten into you?' Mary asked amused.

'Nothing much.'

Mary sat on the other bed and looked out the window, where the wind was blowing hard.

'But Lydia did him justice…he's probably like that, I know he is!'

'The Colonel?'

'Who else? Oh, he must have another lover somewhere…perhaps Derbyshire. A small country girl, with plump breast and red lips!'

'Why do you think so?'

'Why else would he have left like that? He probably couldn't stand it anymore.'

'Yes, he couldn't stand it anymore,' Mary said sternly.

Kitty turned abruptly as if her sister knew something she did not.

_They seem to be the only ones who do not notice it…_she thought amused.

'He could not stand your impertinent and cold behaviour, when he had tried his utmost to please you.'

'Impertinent? He was an insolent man, not I!'

'Do you realise how ridiculous you are sister, to be jealous of a non-existent mistress of the Colonel's?'

'Non-existent? I should think not,' she said angrily.

'And I am not jealous,' she added. 'In any case, what of it?'

'It proves you have some feelings which you'd be embarrassed to admit.'

'I only feel pity for such a man,' she said flatly and with that went out of the room.

* * *

'Oh, Mr. Bennet, the weather is odd for such a time, no rain, no snow, just wind and it's to be December soon!' Mrs. Bennet exclaimed a few days later as they were sitting at dinner.

'My dear, it is quite the perfect weather for me then, for I can conduct my business without inconvenience…' Mr. Bennet muttered sipping from his glass of wine.

'But it's awfully boring…'Lydia said playing with her fork. 'Ah, and this child is tedious and cruel to me…'

'Why do you say so?' Kitty asked curiously, reaching for the bread.

'It makes me feed myself constantly…I'll never have my slim waist again,' she mumbled darkly.

'What shall you ever do…' Mary said sarcastically.

'Oh, Mr. Bennet it's almost December, I had forgotten!' Mrs. Bennet exclaimed all of sudden.

'What of it, dear?' he asked bored.

'Oh, how you tease me so! You know we are soon to be invited at Pemberley! Lizzie promised a grand party and all the family would be reunited, with Jane and Charles as well and now my dear Lydia, with us!' she said looking at her warmly.

'Surely we must go soon,' Lydia added thoughtfully.

'An invitation you say?' Mr. Bennet said chuckling.

'Well, of course, we cannot simply impose this on them, even though it would be normal to visit our children we cannot…if they do not want us to come…' Mrs. Bennet spoke in shy tones as if she were twenty again though Mr. Bennet recognised the slyness in her voice immediately.

'Well then, if only an invitation makes you go, then be happy to have a reason to…impose your stay on them, as you say,' he added, his eyes twinkling.

Mrs. Bennet looked up surprised.

'Mr. Bennet…you do not mean?'

'I'm afraid I did receive an invitation this morning from Lizzie and Mr. Darcy to join them at Pemberley as soon as the first of December. Jane and Mr. Bingley are coming as well…and many other good friends. So there, your wish is fulfilled. This is why you married me, my dear, I can make everything you wish come true and all I need is a terrible headache to accomplish it…'

'Oh, Mr. Bennet, such a tedious man you are! How you made my heart flinch just now!' she said getting up and rushing towards him to give him a kiss, but he simply took the letter from his pocket and gave it to her.

She read it with trembling hands and exclaimed her happiness by praising the handsome aspect of the writing and its contents.

'Oh, girls this is most wonderful! A Christmas in the family, like we used to have, when all of us used to be together, not parted from each other to God knows where,' she said seeming quite flushed. 'Lizzie and Jane and you, sweetest Lydia, ah it shall be marvellous!'

The evening thus passed in happy tones though it is safe to say Kitty was quiet and withdrawn, smiling only complacently at such news.

Lydia laughed and made jokes with her mama and even Mr. Bennet smiled without anger or spite at his youngest daughter, though he mostly indulged himself in playing backgammon with Mary and discussing town affairs with her. Mary thought with joy they no longer seemed odious to her.

The days that followed passed in such turmoil that everyone was busy preparing for the future journey that would be longer and more gruelling than any made before.

Kitty dared not go outside the house, for fear of encountering Maria Lucas and receiving another slap, though she planned to give her a piece of her own mind if that should happen.

She could not help but fret at having to meet the Colonel, for he certainly would be there and she tried to persuade herself Mr. Prowler would be there as well and she would no longer suffer from loneliness and bad company.

'Pitiful of me…' she told herself when she caught herself thinking about the Colonel. 'Mr. Prowler, who loves me truly and is such a good-natured gentleman, will surely make up for all this foolishness…'

Lydia in the meanwhile had grown such an appetite that she needed three plates of the same course to be considered enough for her. She complained of her weight but at night, many a times she used to soothe her fat belly, caressing it softly.

Mary was employing her time as efficient as possible, trying not to consider what a Christmas with the entire family would be like when only Kitty and Lydia seemed more than enough to her. She had heard of Georgiana Darcy and was very curious to meet her, especially since she was a proficient musician, who could produce such happy tunes…unlike her.

On the thirtieth of November, the Bennets set out for Derbyshire, leaving their safe and warm Longbourn once again, all with hopes and wishes concerning the coming winter.

I shall not torment the reader with other frugal and tedious details of their journey, for having Lydia, Catherine and Mrs. Bennet together in one carriage is more than enough to make one understand it could not have been a pleasant trip for Mr. Bennet or Mary. I should only remark that, just like in the previous journeys, each found adequate occupation, though the carriage had to be stopped several times even before exiting Hertfordshire, Lydia always discovering at the last moment that she had forgotten her fan or some ignorant piece of jewellery.

At last, they arrived in Derbyshire on a cold yet dry, late afternoon on the first of December, all tired and irritated, which was the common charm of such a family.

The road to Pemberley estate woke them up from their drowsiness as not even Mr. Bennet could ignore the impressive beauty of such elegant and perfect a haven when they passed the oak forests and the breathtaking lake that guarded the massive estate.

The mansion was perhaps the jewel of jewels, seeing as it seemed a chateau of gothic and romantic stories of past centuries, all buried in the Renaissance paintings of the Halls and drawing rooms, in the ancient books adorning the huge library; even found in the pleasant smell of nature and noblesse surrounding every trifling object there.

Mary was stunned and could not help gaping at such luxuries. Lizzie was lucky indeed. The Bingley estate was splendid, but the Pemberley mansion was beyond words.

Though, she considered she would not like to live there for a long time, for it seemed such a large estate and it would be too much for a small person like her. She did however want to be the possessor of such fine a library.

Elizabeth, Darcy and Georgiana, who looked charming and sweet in her white apparel, welcomed them with as much cordiality as possible and were happy to announce they were the first to come, so they would be at leisure for a while.

They had few servants and little distress with them as Lizzie had gotten the hang of being a mistress faster than anyone would have suspected. Mrs. Bennet was pleased with her daughter and kissed her warmly, though she still kept most of her attention for Lydia who was found to be the main interest of all the persons there, what with her situation and child in her womb.

Lizzie and Darcy were a degree or two colder to her as they refrained from alluding to the past and simply were pleased to ask her of her condition and give her some words of comfort, assuring her she would have her share of entertainment, even though she was a misfortunate widow.

Lydia did not pay heed to her status and considering herself but a young girl of seventeen, found much fun in acting as if she were to be launched in society on such occasions.

No one minded her however, as they all were in high spirits at having been reunited again. It took more than two solid hours to make them all acquainted with the house and its grounds, but Mr. Darcy promised Mr. Bennet a promenade or an outing to fish on one of those days when the wind would be kinder.

Lizzie too knew that Lydia and Kitty would be restless until they discovered all that the estate had to offer and walks all over the lands surrounding the house would come most useful in the days to follow.

Lydia tried her best to impress Georgiana with the awful story of her deceased husband and with all the sufferance she had undergone, but the young girl seemed unaffected as she had been warned of Lydia before and could not form too favourable an opinion of Wickham's wife.

Kitty and Mary had not much to say to her though the elderly Bennets were very respectful and warm to her, Mr. Bennet considering her a very well behaved young lady, especially since she was of Lydia's age.

Georgiana herself spoke little and looked at the ground when spoken to, most of the time. She only glanced at Mary once or twice out of curiosity but dared do nothing else.

At last, they all settled to dinner on that fair evening, in the imposing dining room which amassed three bright chandeliers, marble and mahogany decorating its lavishing furniture.

Candles burnt softly and a sweet smell of delicious cuisine filled the air as all sat to eat merrily.

Mary noticed that while Lizzie was still her old self, she seemed more composed and less eager to make fun of and irk those she did not agree with. Her husband's demure attitude had served her well.

She was feeling peckish and only Lydia seemed to enjoy the food thoroughly as they all rather talked than ate.

Georgiana, who sat next to her, ate in silence and only smiled politely at her whenever Mary decided to say something bland about the room and weather.

'We are to expect Jane, Caroline and Charles tomorrow, along with Mr. Prowler, they say,' Lizzie told her father.

'Is that so?' Kitty inquired. 'Mr. Prowler is to come tomorrow?'

'I suspect so and I also suspect that news is much to your interest,' Lizzie said smiling slyly.

Kitty blushed and looked away.

'Colonel Fitzwilliam is to come on the third I suppose,' added Darcy warmly. 'I miss a companion like him to save me from my wife's charms.'

Lizzie huffed and threw him an amused look.

'Is he really?' Kitty suddenly asked, but other voices drowned her own and she had to be pleased with the worried glances Mary gave her.

'And is that all of our party?' Mrs. Bennet asked curiously.

'Certainly not, most of our acquaintances will come here for New Year's Eve, to celebrate with us, but for Christmas we shall have only close friends and family, it was my dear Fitzwilliam's wish and I perfectly agree,' added Lizzie warmly.

'Then, are we to expect a Ball on New Year's Eve? Will we really have a feast at Pemberley?' both Lydia and her mother asked.

'I suppose it is according to tradition and I dare say we all would not mind…' Darcy said, addressing Mr. Bennet though he had not said a word of it.

'But then we must have a Ball at Christmas too!' Lydia exclaimed impolitely.

'That is very tedious, Lydia, at Christmas we shall simply reunite and spend our evening with good food and entertainment, or at least I hope it will be so, Mr. Darcy,' Mr. Bennet spoke silently.

'And you are quite right Sir, we shall have it as you please,' he said kindly.

Mrs. Bennet threw her husband an obfuscated look, but said no more. The dinner passed happily and all of them made schemes regarding the way they were to spend their time, though Lizzie reassured them she had prepared everything to their wishes and there would be much to entertain.

When they all retired to bed they could safely see the superiority of the house as the Bennets spent half an hour praising and gaping at the lavish surrounding them.

Mary this time had a room of her own prepared, Lizzie considering she deserved such a nicety for being the eldest single sister. Mary, however, did not appreciate the gesture. It reminded her too much of home, though the room was as large as the Longbourn dining room.

'And what use can I make of such a large room?' she asked herself sadly.

Mary arranged the contents of her luggage neatly and placed her books on small tables and chairs around her. Her own small library had followed her here and she was happy for that at least.

Kitty and Lydia stayed together in a room one floor above Mary's, just as large and beautiful as hers, only that it had two beds and two beating hearts that made it cheerful and full of life.

Mary looked up at the ceiling and she could hear their small feet on the floor, their gregarious laughter and whispered gossip. She could portray how they would both jump in their beds and brush each other's hair.

She wanted none of those things…but she wanted another soul to talk to and she had no one. Suddenly, everything felt cold, but as a true heroine of a tragic novel, she went to the window, to feel the cold sink deeper in her bones.

She hugged herself as she leaned on the curtains and looked onto the dark lands that engulfed her, the room, the house, everything.

A loud knock woke her up from her reverie. She quickly went to the door, but no one was there to be welcomed in.

'I must be hearing things…' she mumbled sleepily.

She sat on her bed and pulled her tight knot from her nape, letting her hair fall carelessly on her shoulders.

The black ebony of her strands spread as a dark waterfall as she watched it fall into stillness once again. Not even one curl adorned her hair; it stood straight and proud, intense in colour and playful in spirit.

She heard another knock. Sighing she got up once again, yet there was no one at her door.

She surveyed her room carefully but she could see no source of such a sound.

Another louder knock made her jump out of her shoes.

'Who is there?' she asked meekly.

'Come here…' a soft voice called her.

Mary looked at her large wardrobe. The sound seemed to be coming from the interior of it, but when she opened it she only found her plain clothes.

'No, here…' the voice called again.

She saw the outline of a small door behind the wardrobe and using all her strength she pushed the piece of furniture out of the way.

And indeed, she had been right. It was a secret door, a secret opening that connected her room with another.

She gently pushed the door open and in front of her she saw an angel in a long, white petticoat, with dark blonde curls falling to her waist.

'Miss Darcy…' she whispered stunned.

Georgiana bowed politely.

'Miss Mary Bennet…you are…I presume…'she said shyly.

They both stared at each other.

'Is that your room, Miss Darcy?' Mary asked at length.

'Georgiana, please, call me Georgiana. Yes, it is my room. You did not know they put you up next to mine?'

'I was not aware of it, no.'

'Well, it seems we are neighbours,' she said smiling.

Mary ventured a soft smile.

'It seems so…though, this small door…I did not notice it.'

'Of course you didn't, no one does unless they know the estate like I do. When you are well accustomed to all its secrets you tend to laugh at such mischievousness. That is what I like best about it, all its secrets,' she said laughing.

Mary now grinned relieved and welcomed her in.

'Oh, no, I know the room too well, come in mine for you do not know it,' she said.

'I hope it's not too impolite of me…but I shall not bother your privacy when wanted, do not fret, I appreciate such a thing, believe me,' Georgiana added.

'Oh, it's no bother at all, you can call in whenever you please,' Mary assured her in a soft voice as she stepped into the other girl's room.

It seemed warmer and not lonely as hers as she noticed two large paintings on the opposite walls.

'Mum and dad…'she said silently.

They both sat on her large bed.

'I must say Miss…Georgiana, I was under the impression you were very withdrawn and did not much like my talking.'

'Oh, I am like that with new people, especially when my brother is there to watch. I simply find myself incapable of opening my mouth. But…it's much more pleasant this way. And I must say I am quite curious. Lizzie has told me you love reading and play the piano.'

'Oh…thank you…I do enjoy reading very much…but I'm afraid I don't play the piano anymore.'

'Why ever not?' Georgiana asked alarmed. 'You have not gone off it, I hope?'

'It is nothing of such kind…but one must be honest to oneself when one has no talent…one should stop trying to prove anything.'

'No talent? I don't believe so…I fell in love with my pianoforte and I thought I had no talent at the beginning too, but even now, I might have no talent at all. I simply worked hard and became better. One shouldn't give up easily. It is not all about talent, it is more about passion.'

Mary looked at her impressed.

'Very wise words indeed, but I really did try…'

'You didn't try hard enough, Mary,' she said addressing her by her first name. 'One of these days you must show me how you play and then I will be the perfect judge of it. We shall practice together, if you like.'

Mary said nothing, only looked down shyly, feeling happy and sad at the same time at such a prospect.

'You are very kind Georgiana…though I must say it is very peculiar how you can trust me so and be so friendly to me when you have barely met me,' she said smiling.

'Oh, it may seem naïve, but it is nothing of the sort. Believe me, I have a special sense about this and I can feel you are a kind, sensible person.'

Mary chuckled. 'You give me too much credit, but let us hope I don't give you any less. If I am kind and sensible then you are quite magnanimous and caring, I should suspect.'

'And you would suspect right. Now, to prove my skill, I shall give you an example. When Lizzie first visited this house, I knew instantly she was the big sister I had always wished for. I also knew she was one of very few, if not the only one who could stand up to my brother.'

Mary nodded amused.

'Well, when I first met Miss Caroline Bingley,' she continued, 'I knew instantly she would end up an old hag with worms for companionship and her own insipid words to listen to.'

Mary knew not if she should be shocked or amused, but without thinking, she burst into a fit of laughter as Georgiana kept repeating "detestable spinster…"

'I suppose she is your favourite,' Mary added mirthfully.

'Indeed, I could not sleep well without knowing she is here with us, entertaining us thoroughly.'

Mary was surprised to find at Georgiana such a sharp tongue and for a moment, she felt not so alone anymore.

They talked of many things, Georgiana spoke of Bath and of her childhood, whilst Mary spoke of her books and crazed mother and sisters.

They both laughed when either mentioned something amusing, they were both serious when one was telling a sadder story and they were both wondering how one could become friends with another so easily and so fast in just one night.

* * *

The next morning brought the Bingleys and Caroline as promised and the warm welcomes were repeated though no one could be too kind to Caroline, who seemed to think one was in love with her at a mere 'I hope you are well'.

Georgiana smiled at Mary and whispered "old hag" as she bowed to Caroline, which made Mary stifle a laugh and Kitty look at her strangely.

Mr. Prowler made his appearance later in the afternoon, sporting his own simple yet fast carriage which was praised by Mr. Darcy to be an excellent vehicle.

Everyone was pleased to see him, but for Mary and Lydia. The first instantly stiffened in his presence and watched him suspiciously, whilst the other refused to address him and spent most of the time when he was with them in her room.

When they did encounter each other, Mr. Prowler seemed apologetic and polite, trying to repair his past mistakes, but Lydia simply huffed and paid him no importance.

Mary wondered again and again as they all sat in the drawing room if others knew of what had happened between him and Lydia and was tempted to talk to Mr. Bingley, but decided she would follow such course later on.

James was less eager to please and be jolly however, since it was said his cousin's death had affected him. Mary was sure Charles knew James was related to Wickham but was in a quandary as to the reasons of his secrecy.

_Lizzie and Mr. Darcy are certainly ignorant of it, they seem to be simply acquainted with the fellow. Mr. Darcy seems to trust him as he probably values Mr. Bingley's opinion. Jane seems to know nothing as well…If papa and mama suspect something in Mr. Prowler's behaviour it could only be too strong an attachment to my sister. But then…Lydia has said nothing of what happened…not to mama, not to anyone… Does she suspect I told everyone? This is all very confusing... I must speak to Mr. Bingley of it. He and Lydia seem to be the only ones who know._

Mr. Prowler seemed very much pleased with Kitty and their "strong friendship" was rekindled, though the entire party could see the obvious warmer feelings involved.

Kitty seemed to have forgotten about the Colonel and was completely charmed by the young man as they talked and played together. James seemed more reserved, but nothing stopped him to be as good natured as possible to Catherine.

The day went well as Kitty, Lydia and Lizzie all went on a short ride in Mr. Prowler's fine carriage, though the youngest sister had been forced to comply as she could only be reserved and cold with the gentleman. They all were impressed by the simplicity and commodity of the vehicle.

'Yes, carriages make for excellent companions, though I am much more of a horse-lover. I prefer those noble animals to these fine carriages. It is most refreshing and useful to ride horses and my own is one of the best breeds out there. That is not of much importance, but such a beauty makes it all worth while. It is sad we waste our times inside, when we could be admiring the nature that is offered to us,' he added languidly.

'You must be an excellent rider,' Kitty remarked.

'I do not profess to be so…'

'Yet you are lucky, I cannot ride a horse.'

'That is, you haven't tried yet. I can teach you Miss Catherine. In fact one of these days I will take you on a few rides to be able to get the hang of it. Horses are gentle creatures, I am sure you will feel partial to them.'

'I'll have the best teacher I can learn from, I shall be indeed pleased,' she said shyly.

'Well, I hope your sisters will join you, riding should be exercised by all.'

'Oh, Sir, only Lizzie could do so, my sister Lydia is to be with child and Mary cannot even run two miles. Quite sad actually.'

'I believe she is much occupied with other things then,' he added politely. 'Nonetheless, she should practice in any case, she seems ambitious and if she doesn't succeed the humiliation shall teach her well.'

* * *

Mary and Georgiana remained at home as they spent some of their afternoon in the large library, searching for books and rare objects Miss Darcy had noticed in some shelves and drawers.

'You are so lucky Georgiana,' Mary said tiredly as they arranged some books on a small table near the window. 'You have all this to yourself, how pleased you must be.'

'Not quite…I'd be much more pleased if I had someone to share them with…would you be that person then, Mary?'

'I would be honoured,' she replied chuckling.

'I am serious, you can take whichever you like, I'm sure brother wouldn't mind at all.'

'I wish I could take them all.'

'Not even you can do that Miss Bennet,' Georgiana said laughing.

The doors of the library opened and Charles came in smiling warmly.

'There you are! We've all been looking for you two. It seems you've decided to make this your hiding place. And quite an excellent one I should say…'

'Yet we were here first,' Georgiana said shyly bowing politely.

'Indeed and I shall not disturb you, I merely wanted to get something,' he said going to the other side of the room, at a far-away desk where some papers lay scattered.

Georgiana made to leave, but Mary looked back at Charles and decided to stay. She wanted to talk to Mr. Bingley and this could be a good chance as they were alone. She nodded to Georgiana, who looking puzzled, nodded back and left the room.

When Mr. Bingley came back he was surprised to find only Mary but he smiled saying he knew Miss Darcy to be quite shy.

'Not quite, Sir, she is very amiable, I should say.'

'I've noticed you have become friends and I am very much pleased, you will be a good influence on her, Miss Bennet.'

'Or the other way round…in any case, there was something I wanted to discuss with you, Mr. Bingley.'

Charles' face became serious.

'Has something occurred?'

'No, nothing alarming, do not fret. I meant to ask you some things about a certain gentleman.'

Mr. Bingley sat down in the armchair near the window, putting his papers aside and Mary seated herself on a stool in front of him.

'Go on, Miss Bennet.'

'Sir, I know of Mr. Prowler's connections,' she said bluntly.

'Ah, so that was the gentleman,' he said sadly.

'Is it true? Is he Mr. Wickham's cousin?'

Charles folded the papers and started fidgeting nervously.

'Where did you hear this account?'

'Lydia told me in one of her letters.'

'Oh…so, there is no use denying it.'

Mary stared at him.

'Then…'

'I shall be frank with you Miss Bennet. James is Wickham's cousin as you well affirm. It is all true. However, the blood relation makes them as different as chalk from cheese. Mr. Prowler has become a renowned and respected lawyer in London, while Wickham…well I should not go on.'

'But then why all this secrecy? If he has nothing to hide…'

'Yet he does. Miss Bennet, only I and Mr. Darcy knew of it. Lydia had to know at some point, but he wanted this to be kept quiet because he did not want to be associated with his cousin. Not after all he did. He would still help him when in trouble, but with the price of Wickham keeping his mouth shut about them being related. After all, James has a reputation to maintain in London. It is no easy business being in his position. He's a top barrister and needs to take care.'

Mary pondered over what was said, but could not be calmed.

'Jane does not know? No one else?'

'Well, to the best of my knowledge, yes, no one else.'

'But why has not Lydia said anything?'

'Your sister and her husband were both informed that would be the price of Mr. Prowler's help. Their keeping quiet that is. If she told you in a letter however, she must have had some reasons.'

'She was very angry and upset in that letter, perhaps she let it slip,' added Mary pensively.

'It might have been…but what letter do you speak of?'

'…Mr. Bingley…Mr. Prowler was injured because of a fight with Mr. Wickham, back in August, is not that right?'

He sighed.

'I'm afraid it is. Or so James told me. He would not however tell me the reason for such a thing. He did tell me that he was very much angry with his cousin and that the fight had begun because of his wife. It seems Lydia was involved somehow, but he would not elaborate. Since then I suppose they broke connections and now…his death had some effect upon him.'

Mary tried to keep still on her stool as she looked attentively at Mr. Bingley's face.

'Did your sister's letter to you bear any information about it?'

'No, she did not say anything about it either, though she told me of the fight and of him being Wickham's cousin,' Mary lied quickly.

She could not understand why she did it, but for some reason she felt she should keep quiet. She now was certain only she and Lydia knew what the cause of the fight had been and for the time being she preferred it that way. She fretted that, should Mr. Bingley know, a scandal would ensue and being it near Christmas she wanted no such thing. She would observe him attentively, she told herself.

'Well, I suppose we could find out from one of them only, though I do not think James would enlighten me upon it, he seems very much against the subject, though I confess I am very curious myself. Wickham's death has closed this matter, however,' he added.

'So it seems…' Mary said bitterly. She did not want to approach Lydia on this matter, but if Mr. Prowler strengthened his attachment to Kitty she would have to act responsibly.

* * *

The party now being bigger and merrier, dinner lasted longer than expected that evening. Mr. Prowler and Kitty talked of their ride in the carriage and of their scheme of riding horses as Lizzie told her husband of what they had seen and how well-made the vehicle was.

Caroline surprisingly found pleasure in talking to Lydia and Mrs. Bennet, all three having a competition of seeing who could talk faster and louder. The noise produced was unbearable to Mary or would have been had it not been for Georgiana, who kept her spirits up.

Jane and Charles were trying to entertain Mr. Bennet, but with little success as the poor man had come down with some sort of cold and did not feel up to any conversation.

Mary watched Kitty and James from time to time, but except a certain reserve in his tone that showed he was still "in mourning", there was nothing out of the ordinary.

As she listened to Georgiana talk quietly next to her, to the clutter of cutlery on the plates, even to her mother's brash tone and to the laughter erupting from Kitty's lips once every five minutes, she remembered something.

In that warm and dry atmosphere, in that loud room full of life she remembered Mr. Fowler was but miles away at his estate in Huntington Park. She remembered well what Mrs. Collins had said, what he had said himself.

He was there and she was here. She wondered if he had been invited to stay at Pemberley or to attend the Ball. But more importantly, she wondered why, then and there, she was thinking about someone she knew nothing of and who probably was not thinking of her, right then…and there.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Locket

She flipped Lydia's old letter indifferently in her fingers, though the contents of it were of great importance not to her only, but to her entire family.

She did not know what to do.

Mary inspected it with an odd look as if it had some strange disease cast upon it. After a while she left it be and went to sit in her small stool, near the window.

_Can Lydia be more confusing? Such a puzzling being… Why did she choose to tell me of Wickham and Prowler? Why…No, she must have decided to tell Kitty or someone from the family, no matter who…it just so happened that that person was me. _

_Yet why did she want to let someone know? She knew that Prowler would stop helping them if she spilled the beans. Then again, she sent the letter after the incident so she probably saw it fit to tell me since she had broken ties with that man. _

_But why has she not told everything to mama? Or papa...or even Kitty…why did she decide to bury it for good?_

Such thoughts troubled Mary as she leaned her head on the blue curtains.

Lydia's letter lay on her bedside table and she dared not pick it up again.

'Should I let them know?'

Her gaze settled on a sparrow which was flying happily through the garden outside. She followed the bird's trail until she saw a carriage approaching the house.

_And what about Kitty? She tells me she wants a man to pay attentions to one woman only and then proclaims that she would not refuse the Colonel's advances, even if married. Such __a paradoxical being! Then again, my entire family is like that…there is always a shade of grey in every one of their words. _

Her gaze fell upon the carriage and she noticed a man coming out of it.

'The Colonel!' she said shortly and rose to go and meet him.

The entrance Hall seemed deserted, but for the solitary servant who was probably going up to announce Mr. Bingley of the arrival of his guest.

Mary glided down the stairs and arrived at the oak doors just when the gentleman stepped inside, followed by two servants of the house.

She stopped dead.

'Miss Bennet, how lovely to see you so soon,' a deep voice rang in her ears as Mr. Fowler bowed.

'Mr. Fowler,' she said breathlessly and curtseyed.

_How could I confuse things so?_ she wondered as she tried to regain her composure.

'I am equally pleased,' she added at length.

He smiled and remained quiet until Mr. Bingley came down to receive him.

They did not seem the best of friends, but they treated each other amiably enough. Charles welcomed him happily and was delighted to see Mary was already there to meet the guest.

She found out soon enough that he had been invited to dinner and to a game of bridge with Charles and perhaps a game of chess with Mr. Darcy.

Both gentlemen retired to Mr. Bingley's office, thus Mary found excuse to retire as well.

Georgiana was excited to find out about the coming of the neighbour and asked Mary a load of questions concerning the mentioned gentleman, but she couldn't satisfy her with interesting information for she knew not much of him either.

Kitty was scandalized to know he had been invited and Lydia showed an eager interest to meet him as Lizzie had mentioned the words "bachelor" and "good fortune" when the sisters were talking in the drawing room about the coming guests.

Catherine seemed the only young lady displeased, but she was joined by Mr. Prowler in her prattle since neither liked him very much.

That afternoon James opened the stables and led the horses near the river across the domain to let them have a bit of sport. The weather was cold, but the sun glazed the grey grass soothingly as small clouds tumbled across the darkened sky. It did not seem to be any danger of rain and the river floated happily, as if playing a flute number from Mozart.

This picturesque scenery did not go with the rattle of hoofs and long bones as the slender animals grazed what they could find and stumbled upon rocks and quarries, but it served well to impress a young lady like Kitty.

They both descended the hills as each stood by a black horse with brown eyes. The difference was that James' had a white spot near his jaw.

'So beautiful indeed…' she murmured.

'Mm…majestic,' he added.

'Well then, mount old Bonther, he is quite harmless,' he said pointing at her horse.

'I can't…I don't know how and I do not wish to ride now.'

'But you have not gone off learning how to ride, have you?'

'Not one bit, but it's too nostalgic an afternoon, I can only look at the dying nature,' she said nervously

'Dying nature? Surely, I believe it is truly alive, now when about to be torn apart, it rebels against the fury of the winds.'

'Do you mean to say you like the cold seasons, Sir?' Kitty asked incredulous.

'Well, I enjoy winter, but I must say I have a soft spot for autumn.'

'Ah, you are just like Mary and papa, why would you like autumn, Sir?'

'Because, Miss Catherine, the rain is the purest in autumn,' he said silently.

The walked on, talking of trifles and admiring the vast lands opening in front of them.

'Will you be attending the Ball, Mr. Prowler?' she asked suddenly.

'Well, if all goes well and I am not somehow called back to London, I think so.'

'I would be very distraught if you missed it, Sir,' she said sternly

'I share your feelings, for I do not wish to miss your dance, Miss Catherine.'

'Ah, you said so last time as well, but left in such a hurry.'

'I had important business, urgent quite, in London for which I must apologise.'

'I have forgiven you if that is what you seek to know.'

'Indeed, I am now at peace.'

James stopped at length exclaiming with surprise.

'An apple tree! How beautiful and solitary it looks, does it not Miss Catherine?'

Kitty stopped and squinted pensively at it.

'Indeed,' she said looking at her muddy shoes.

'Let us rest a bit by its side,' he proposed.

'No!' she added immediately, 'it's far too late, we must return I think.'

James gave her an odd look but nodded and took her hand to lead her back.

'You are not very fond of apples, I suppose?'

Kitty looked up. 'Oh, I very much enjoy them, but I do not like apple trees.'

* * *

The china was shining elegantly in the golden light of the chandelier and the murmur of words floated across the room as everyone came down to dine. 

The dining room had taken the role of a festive Hall, Mary believed, for three days now since she had been there, she had not seen so much mirth and enjoyment as in that particular room.

The hierarchy of seats was mind-boggling and confusing as it took a good ten minutes for everyone to be settled, but at last Mary found herself between Georgiana and Lydia.

Mr. Fowler was seated far away from her, next to Mr. Darcy and Lizzie and the only thing she could hear was her mother's booming voice as she sat in her proximity.

From time to time, she would sneak a peek at the gentleman, but he not once looked at her. It was then that Mary returned to her plate, not noticing that in those moments Mr. Fowler glanced fleetingly at her. This odd game continued throughout the dinner, neither noticing the mirth of it.

Georgiana was not talkative and a bit bored as she played with her fork, whilst Lydia was very attentive at every movement around her and asked many things of Mr. Fowler, smiling seductively whenever he chanced to look in her way, for, since she caught every look he would send to Mary, she believed those glances were directed at her.

Mr. Prowler was eating silently in Kitty's proximity, casting odd looks at Mr. Fowler and smiling softy at the young lady next to him.

'I do not trust him,' he murmured when Kitty whispered to him how the man was so pretentious and full of himself.

'And you have no reason to, insolent man,' she replied, infuriated that the entire day Mr. Fowler had not addressed her two words.

Caroline, who sat opposite Mary, decided to speak in order to console the young widow.

'I'm afraid there is not much pleasure, for us, pained ones,' she said.

Lydia looked at her amused.

'Oh, it's been hard, but I do not suppose you could know what it feels like, Miss Bingley, after all, you have not lost a dearly, beloved _husband_,' she replied emphasising more the fact that she was single, rather than that she knew not the sufferance of a mourner.

Mary managed to refrain from smiling, but Georgiana was not strong enough.

'Oh, Miss Darcy, it is a sad business, nothing happy by nature, I assure you. It may seem pleasant to be alone again, free to pursue some other intricate love, but the pain of losing the first cannot make up for it,' Caroline remarked, eyeing the girl austerely.

Georgiana bit her lips to stop her laughter, but Mary quickly intervened.

'How right you are, Miss Bingley, I am sure Lydia feels very lucky to have your understanding of the matter.'

This reply did not calm Georgiana's mirth, as she was about to burst, when the butler suddenly entered the room.

'Sir, Colonel Fitzwilliam has arrived.'

Mrs. Bennet stopped ranting and looked up at Mr. Darcy and Lizzie as the guests moved uncomfortably in their seats.

Kitty let go of Mr. Prowler's hand for a moment and looked at his face.

'Mr. Fitzwilliam,' she said silently. 'Well, then, our party is getting bigger.'

'Indeed,' James said good-humouredly, but Kitty looked away, pretending to search for her glass of wine.

* * *

'You look well, Colonel,' Mary said politely as they sat down in the drawing room where the entire party had retired. 

Fitzwilliam looked prim and proper as always, with a lovely handkerchief to guard his chest and sporting snowy lapels. He sat in his chair by the window across Mary who was joined by Georgiana.

Mr. Darcy sat crouched at a chess table opposite Mr. Fowler, both men very much engaged in their game, though Lizzie and Mary would look at them curiously once in a while.

'My brother will surely win, he is not beaten easily,' Georgiana said sweetly as she smiled at Mary.

'Quite right Miss Darcy, I believe no one can beat Darcy easily and he professes to be an amateur only!' the Colonel agreed looking out the window.

Mary knew he was trying to avoid looking at Catherine who was talking across the room with James, Lizzie and Jane, gathered round a cards table. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet had gone to bed earlier than usual, taking Lydia with them who needed rest for the baby and Charles was dozing off by the fireside. This she noticed by surveying the room silently. She too saw how Kitty whispered some amusing trifles in James' ear from time to time and how he played with the ring on her middle finger.

She did not see, however, that Catherine would glance, once in a while in her direction to observe any change in the Colonel. She smiled whenever he shook his head bitterly, looking out into the darkness.

'It seems the winner shall come out soon,' the Colonel said trying to seem highly interested in the game.

And indeed, Mr. Fowler won. Georgiana looked down baffled as Mary only glanced at him in awe.

'Well, a fair win I must say, Sir,' Mr. Darcy said shaking hands with him.

His voice woke Charles from his sleepy reverie and he would have fallen asleep again, had it not been for Jane's hand on his shoulder.

'You look tired, dear, perhaps it's time for bed,' she said sweetly.

'Perhaps,' he admitted smiling.

'Such happy couple I've never seen,' the Colonel said looking at them with a small smile on his face.

Just then his look met Kitty's and they both stood still glancing at each other across the room as Jane and Charles passed them silently, bidding goodnight and wishes of pleasant dreams to everyone.

Their soft steps echoed on the Persian rugs and the spell was broken as Catherine looked away, cutting the invisible strings that tied her to his eyes.

Mary had been watching them amazed and was just about to address the Colonel a few words regarding her sister, when she suddenly heard Lizzie's voice.

'Oh, but you should…I assure you, Mr Fowler, my sister Mary is one of the best players in all Hertfordshire. I believe she would be a most worthy chess opponent.'

Mr. Fowler looked up at her and smirked.

'Is it really so? Well then, I should see for myself if the rumours are true,' he replied eyeing her curiously.

Mary tried not to blush but failed miserably.

Mr. Fowler approached her and bowed at Georgiana.

'It is good to have you here, Sir,' the Colonel responded.

'I am equally pleased,' he added looking at Mary.

'Well then, one of these days you must pay me a visit Miss Bennet. I do not wish to lose an opportunity of having a good opponent.'

He proceeded to talk a bit to Miss Darcy and inquire of her health, but he soon bowed again and left the party as he exited the drawing room with no sign of wanting to say goodbye to anyone.

'That's quite odd. Didn't he already invite Charles and Darcy to join him at his estate tomorrow with the ladies?' the Colonel asked.

'He did,' Georgiana assured him.

Mary remained silent.

* * *

Georgiana was brushing her hair at her dressing table as Mary sat on her bed, gazing silently at the late Mrs. Darcy, her nightgown reaching the floor. 

'Well, that was a pleasant evening, was it not?'

'Quite so.'

'Oh, come, you seem disturbed.'

'Not even a bit, but this book is rather tedious,' she replied and set it aside.

'Fifteen century writers are all rather dull,' Georgiana remarked eyeing the volume.

'Well I have it from your well stocked library,' Mary replied sarcastically.

'Yes, did I mention my father loved to read such dreary things?' she said amused.

Mary smiled softly.

'Odd fellow this Mr. Fowler, don't you think?' she said out of the blue. 'Was he like this when you met him in summer?'

'Odd? I do not know him to judge but I dare say he has not changed.'

'You seem to be on good terms.'

'Barely…' she murmured.

'You loathe each other then?'

'Of course not. I do not suppose he has something against me,' Mary said. 'But we can hardly be called acquaintances.'

'He seems to have an interest in you.'

'Nonsense,' Mary said as she yawned abruptly, trying to keep her eyes open.

'Still, it was only a stroke of luck that he managed to beat my brother at chess. Lady Catherine praised him greatly for his wit at this game and I dare say that is the only thing we ever agreed on.'

She put her comb aside and tied her hook and eye at the back of her petticoat.

When she turned around she saw Mary sprawled on her bed, fast asleep.

'Ah, poor child,' she said amused. Blowing the candles she crept silently in Mary's room and went to sleep in her bed.

* * *

The next morning found Mary strolling peacefully through the garden as the icy air bit her cheeks and played with the hem of her dress. 

She was looking over the large poplars into the dull sky and across the reddened hills, imagining she could travel as far as America by picturing herself there, in the middle of the western deserts.

_I would like to see those cactuses…_

Just then she saw another figure approaching her.

'Kitty, what are you doing here?' she asked.

'Am I not allowed to join you?' she asked coming up to her.

'Certainly, but where is Lydia?'

'Sleeping…poor woman is so listless what with that child in her womb.'

_Trust Kitty to be rudely direct about things._

'It can be no easy business…'

'Ah you sound like Caroline.'

'So, you've listened to her anecdotes as well,' Mary said sarcastically.

'More than enough…'

They walked on in silence.

'I came to you last night, but I found Miss Georgiana sleeping in your bed…most disturbing,' she said suddenly.

Mary blushed. 'That is because I had fallen asleep in her room and well…it was my fault for causing such inconvenience.'

Kitty chuckled.

'Well, I am glad you found a friend, Mary, for surely you must get along with her.'

'We are on good terms indeed.'

'That is not to say the Darcy name has anything to do with it…' Kitty continued coldly.

'Why did you come to my room?' Mary asked.

'Oh, nothing…mere trifles,' she said looking away.

'Come now, Catherine…there must have been a reason.'

Kitty looked across the garden, inspecting if there was any unwanted company. At length she spoke.

'I simply wanted to know how you had spent your night.'

Mary smirked. 'That was all?'

'Yes…I had seen you talking to Miss Darcy and Mr. Fowler and…the Colonel as well, quite a chat you had.'

'And you are curious to know what was said?'

Kitty nodded nonchalantly.

'Oh, nothing much, the Colonel seemed to regret having broken off the engagement to Maria, he was out of sorts, probably missed the poor thing,' Mary added slyly.

'Ha! He misses the poor thing…he'll probably find her in a convent…or rather in an asylum where she belongs, mad woman. If he regrets it so he should run off to her immediately.'

'I don't suppose he can do much about it now.'

'So that is why he looked so down in the mouth,' she added angrily.

'What other reason could there be? Could it be because he was vehemently ignored by the likes of you?'

Kitty turned around.

'He loathes me, I can tell.'

'Oh, silly Catherine, you have two men at your knees, begging your encouragement and you play with them both.'

Kitty scowled and said no more.

They were soon joined by Mr. Prowler who was taking out his horse again and Mary was about to leave when Kitty suddenly took hold of her arm and kept her still. Mary gave her a questioning look but she just smiled in his direction.

'Miss Catherine, Miss Bennet,' he bowed politely.

'Mr. Prowler, out with the horse so early?' Catherine inquired.

'It is the best time for him to warm up his stiffened legs. And you ladies, out on an early walk?'

'Quite so, I joined my sister as soon as I saw her strolling around here,' Kitty added shyly loosening her grip on Mary's hand but not letting it go completely.

'But I thought Miss Bennet could not walk two miles,' he said amusedly.

Kitty instantly blushed as Mary gave her a puzzled look.

'I said she could not run two miles, Sir,' she ventured to say, embarrassed.

'I see you have been…praising my outdoor aptitudes,' Mary said ironically.

'Surely, you were not offended Miss Bennet?'

'Not in the least, gathering that it's all very true. It is not the kind of thing I am proud of, but then again I wouldn't be ashamed of it either.'

James smiled sadly at her.

'One of these days you and your sister must join me out for a ride,' he added cheerfully.

'We shall be honoured,' Kitty replied smiling, but Mary only glared at her sister.

'Miss Bennet does not seem happy at the prospect of it,' he said.

Mary looked up.

'But it cannot be helped,' he added eyeing her defiantly.

He soon left them to their solitude, disappearing in the morning mist.

'What was that all about, Kitty?' Mary asked.

'Nothing, I just did not feel up to walking with him alone.'

'And you think with me you're better off?'

'Much better, in fact…' she continued smiling.

'Do not even think about it,' Mary interrupted her bluntly.

'Oh come now, Mary, do it for your dear younger sister who treasures you deeply.'

Mary barely refrained from laughing.

'I shall not ride a horse.'

'I am not asking you to do it, but you must come with me. Mr. Prowler invited both of us.'

'Out of common politeness Kitty, it is obvious he wants to occupy your time only.'

'He will occupy us both, come now, please?'

Mary turned to reflect.

'I would be tempted to go if…'

'Yes?'

'If you changed your attitude towards the Colonel.'

'My attitude? I have no attitude towards…'

'Then why do not you want to be alone with Mr. Prowler?'

'Ah, it is of no importance to you…but very well, I shall be amiable...' she said gloomily.

'Good, then I suppose we have a deal.'

* * *

Georgiana watched the two girls from her bedroom window. They would always be good sisters, always have each other, she thought. She did not have a sister. Her brother, whilst kind and gentle to her could not replace one. Mary was her friend, but Kitty seemed to count more and it was rather normal, she considered. 

She grasped the locket around her neck. Inside there were two faded yet considerably new pictures; one being a perfect likeness of herself and the other of her brother. He was so handsome, while she was so much plainer.

But the fair Georgiana was wrong. Like any girl of her age, with such fortunes and good situation, she saw herself less than she was, her shyness helping her create an image of mediocrity and dullness around her. The truth was that Miss Darcy was utterly beautiful.

It was not a beauty of appearance necessarily. It was beauty that radiated from inside her and gave her features that tender softening that make Greek goddesses seem human. Her brother had rough featured that, combined with the rest of his stature made him as handsome as ever, but she was a delicate primrose that did not shine blazingly, blinding the admirers, but glowed shyly, waiting to be noticed.

Of course, she never remarked that at herself. Right now her eyes were resting on Mary's dress which was laid on her bed neatly. Mary had forgotten it there last night when she had come in her nightgown with the dress under her arm after that gruelling soiree.

'Pretty dress, but plain…like me,' she said.

'Miss Darcy?'

She looked up to find the maid at the door.

'Mr. Darcy wishes to see you,' she said stiffly.

Georgiana nodded and exited the room.

* * *

Mary and Kitty discovered breakfast had been served long ago and had to content themselves with cold eggs and toast, but that did not dampen their spirits, at least not Mary's, since Charles reminded them again that they were to call upon Mr. Fowler, later in the evening. 

They ate in silence until Lydia arrived, taking Catherine away with her to help her with her dresses. She seemed tired, but excited at the prospect of visiting the "mysterious gentleman" as she called him. She wanted to look her best and seem as fresh and fair as Jane, for she knew not when such a good match would come her way again.

Mary was a bit put out by all this, but she made sure no one noticed.

'I simply must get rid of these dark circles!' Lydia moaned as she dragged Kitty up the stairs.

Seeing herself alone, Mary went in search for Georgiana, but she could not find her anywhere in the house and her room was locked.

Thinking she should give up and search outside, she stumbled upon Mr. Darcy's study which led to his private chamber. The room was ambiguously sober and elegant, with different collectable items of art and history, but only documents and legal articles adorned the desks.

She blushed deeply and meant to leave immediately, but a high pitched voice which erupted from the chamber made her stop.

It was as if someone was yelling silently, if such a thing was possible. A weak voice that tried to seem powerfully daring.

She knew she shouldn't, but she could not help eavesdropping at the door, for she was certain she knew the voice.

'_It is of no importance in any case…Why do you wish to know?' _

'_I am only asking for your own sake. I am responsible of your welfare and you are but a child,' Mr. Darcy spoke. _

'_A child older than a pregnant woman. Listen to your words, brother…they deceive you. I…' she went on trying to defeat her fright and timidity. _

'_I cannot invent something that would please you. I spoke the truth.' _

'_Then tell me the…'_

'_I cannot for I do not know it.'_

'_But surely you would…'_

'_You suppose wrong.'_

'_The connection…'_

'_There is nothing of the kind.'_

'_Let me speak, Georgiana. You must tell me all you know. This is not a safe business. Do you want to have to go through all the torments you underwent when you were but fifteen?' _

'_Do not speak of it!' she shrieked shortly. _

'_How can I not?' _

A sob was heard and a small chink that sounded as if something had clasped.

Mary barely had time to recover herself when the door flung open and Georgiana exited furiously, yet still delicately as a primrose.

It was lucky for her that she was hidden behind the door, the young Miss Darcy not having noticed her.

Mr. Darcy sighed sadly and closed the door behind her, locking himself up in his chamber and muttering odd laments.

Mary did not wait for an invitation, but left immediately, following Georgiana.

She eventually found her in the garden sitting on her swing.

'My brother ordered it shortly after the marriage…for the children that would come,' she spoke sadly lifting her forehead to meet Mary's gaze.

'Where have you been?'

'In my room,' she lied.

'Oh, I've been out on a walk with Catherine.'

'Yes I saw.'

'Are you alright Georgiana?'

'I'm quite well, thank you.'

'You seem distressed.'

'Oh, it must be the weather. I never really got along with winter all that much.'

'Yet it's not quite winter. It's December, but the weather is very kind.'

'I never really got along with autumn either.'

Mary chuckled.

'What will you wear tonight?' Georgiana asked curiously.

'A dress I suppose. Showing up stark naked would be my ticket to the asylum.'

Georgiana laughed.

'It is obvious you think nothing of your apparel,' she said getting up. 'Come, let us see what you shall wear.'

* * *

Mr. Darcy exited his study as he walked slowly down the hall. He had never meant to upset his sister like this, but he knew he was right. She was very young and naïve…and had taken off the necklace he had given her. The locket lay heavy in his palm as he looked at her likeness and his. The way she had thrown it at the floor pained him deeply. Admittedly, he shouldn't have mentioned Wickham, he knew, but it couldn't be helped. 

Reaching her chamber he took out a small key and entered it silently. He guessed well that she would not return to her room.

On her bed lay Mary's dress and Mr. Darcy placed the locket inside the pocket of the gown, folding it carefully.

'She shall find it when she gets dressed,' he mumbled to himself and left the room hurriedly, locking it again.

* * *

Mary and Georgiana soon came upstairs and retired to their rooms to rest for a while, but as Miss Darcy wanted to practice on her pianoforte and Mary much wanted to hear her play, Georgiana quickly selected a pretty dress for Miss Bennet to wear that evening. 

'It is too elegant for such an occasion,' Mary had insisted, but she wouldn't hear anything of it.

'It is white and blue, quite perfect, I think, now come let us to go my music room.'

Mary took a book with her and was ready to leave when Georgiana's head appeared at the secret door.

'Oh, Mary you left your green dress in my room. It's right here on the bed,' Georgiana added picking it up and handing it to her friend.

'Oh, thank you, I had forgotten all about it indeed. I did mention I was sorry for the inconveniences caused last night, didn't I?'

'This is the tenth time,' she replied but her tone was sad.

Mary wanted to question her more, but she was rushed to the music room.


	10. Chapter 10

**_I'm terribly sorry for the delay, but school has been so hectic. I finally found time to write a new chapter. Hope you like it!_**

Chapter 10: A night at Huntington

The music room was beautiful. Nothing else could describe its grandeur. The paper wall was fragile and gilded with small cherubs that smiled mischievously. The windows threw a sad light in the room which was reflected on the soft plush ottomans and elegant wooden furniture.

Yet, the main attraction was the large and impressive pianoforte. It was the greatest gift her brother could have given her and Georgiana was immensely proud of it.

She sat on her footstool and setting her fingers on the keyboard started a stormy, melancholy song which reminded Mary of a long forgotten spring day.

She was dazed and stood speechless next to Georgiana as she became one with music. Her fingers vibrated and her swan-like neck bowed submissively to the object of such beauty as she pushed the pedals with passion and anger.

Mary felt so small and insignificant. Georgiana's shy smile turned into an outright grin as she ended her song. The room was still filled with the musical notes.

She turned abruptly towards her friend.

'Well? What does the great pianist Miss Bennet think?'

Mary smiled humbly.

'The great pianist is not worthy of her title and she would gladly give it to Miss Darcy.'

'Nonsense, you just tease me.'

'It was beautiful…quite brilliant,' Mary spoke softly.

'Thank you, Mary, but my teacher still thinks I need improvement. Though I bet you will charm me as well,' she said stepping aside and inviting Mary to play.

'Oh, no…no, I told you I have given up.'

'And I told you I did not want to hear such foolishness again. Now please be seated.'

Mary sighed and sat on the footstool. All the songs she knew were bitter, dreary and sad but not in a pleasant, nostalgic way. They were funeral marches for the likes of Mrs. Long.

Yet, her hands started playing against her will. She started with a slow, banal song she had learnt when a child.

Georgiana watched her attentively and looked very much like a scholar in arts. Mary felt a bit nervous and once or twice she had almost mistaken the claps, but she returned to her demure pace and ended the song at least gracefully.

She turned towards Georgiana.

'You play excellently,' she said smiling.

'Now, you are really making a mock of it.'

'You misunderstood me, Mary. The song is horrible.'

Mary laughed. 'Thank Goodness someone noticed.'

'But…your skills are very good. You just need to select the right material and with a bit of practice you'll be dazzling the ball rooms,' she continued grinning.

'Oh, that shall be quite a day…' Mary murmured amused.

'Your brother must be very proud of your playing,' she added.

Georgiana looked up but did not reply. She seemed distraught, but would not tell.

'Georgiana, I…'

'Let me play you another one,' she said squeezing her hands gently.

* * *

Evening was approaching and everyone was getting ready to leave for Huntington Park, with the exception of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet who decided not to attend. It was not, however, a unanimous decision. Mr. Bennet felt quite ill and Mrs. Bennet felt obliged to attend to him, though she would not admit she did not like it one bit. She loved her husband terribly, but when it came to her daughters out in society… 

Kitty and Lydia were frantic. The dresses were too short, too long or simply hideous. They could not be pleased and neither was happy with their hair.

'Why must we visit that stuck up fool?' Kitty complained as she threw her bonnet on the bed.

'Don't be silly, Kitty. He's single and has amassed quite a fortune. Either you are deaf or blind not to see what a catch he is. And character…humph! You can get used to that. Marriage is not about love.'

Kitty stopped and looked at her oddly.

Lydia stood in front of the mirror, hands around her stomach, sighing, annoyed at the obvious size of it.

'What do you mean? Were you not in love with Mr. Wickham when you married?'

'Of course I was. But mine was just a happy case.'

'Happy? Not quite.'

Lydia scowled. 'You have no sense of romance, Kitty. It lasted so little, yet it seemed the most beautiful time of my life.'

Kitty looked down embarrassed. She fidgeted with her ribbon and thought that she would like such a time as well.

'But now I must remarry. It's only natural,' she said flatly.

'Lydia…'

'Yes?'

'What think you of Mr. Prowler?'

Lydia sat down at her dressing table, fumbling with her compact.

'What I think of him?' she repeated.

'Yes…is he not a handsome man?'

Lydia turned. 'You are besotted with him, aren't you?'

'Not in the least. No! I simply…he seems a good companion.'

'Do you wish to marry him?'

Kitty was surprised to be asked such blunt questions, but relented.

'I am not sure…'

'Well, it is visible you do cherish some feelings similar to love.'

'How would you know?' she asked curiously helping Lydia comb her hair.

'It's in your eyes, dear sister. That lost look I could recognise anywhere.'

Kitty let the comb fall in her sister's auburn hair and wondered if indeed it was true.

The question was if Mr. Prowler was the cause of it.

At last, the Darcys and Bingleys reunited in the carriages leaving Mr. Prowler, Lydia, Kitty and Mary to stagger behind in the beautiful phaeton which was not exactly fit for the weather at hand but would do for a couple of miles.

Georgiana sat with her brother and sister-in-law and Mary felt very sad not to have her company near for the girl gave her courage and helped her overcome her fear. She feared Mr. Fowler and her terrible blush that would not go away.

Kitty was already sinking into her reveries, trying to find a way to amuse herself, whilst smiling complacently at Mr. Prowler who talked pleasantly of London affairs.

Lydia remained silent for a while until she noticed as they passed the darkened hills, a small yet lovely villa perched on top of a steep meadow, surrounded by small elms.

'I say, who lives in that sweet place?'

Mr. Prowler chose to answer.

'That there is the house of the parish. Father Woble lives there, quite close to his congregation I admit. He's a very good sort of fellow, very kind and humble, quite the type Mr. Darcy treasures.'

'And how do you know of him, Sir?' Mary asked surprised.

'I've taken the liberty to pay him a visit, once or twice. He has a lovely wife who makes the greatest puddings in the land. I've tasted them myself and there's nothing of the kind in all England. Ah, but she's a very modern young woman, very much in fashion and knows French too.'

'Hm…Mrs. Woble…' Lydia murmured pensively.

The subject was dropped and James continued his talk of London.

Some time passed and Mary had almost dozed off when the phaeton stopped abruptly.

'Did something come to pass?' she asked alarmed.

'We have arrived,' James replied smiling bitterly.

Mary stepped out of the carriage trembling and dared look around her.

Lush vegetation surrounded her as she saw the vehicle had stopped in front of large black doors, engraved with different strange letters.

The stony alley that led from the gates to the entrance was like a golden river, thrusting through a wildness of green and dark.

She stepped back to look at the mansion better and even Kitty gasped.

It was magnificent. Admittedly, it was nothing like Pemberley, but it had a charm of its own. It had a very solemn yet elegant look as everything seemed to have the colours green, silver or black.

The windows were tall, yet not wide, giving a Gothic appearance and the architecture seemed strict and imposing. It was such a contrast…the wild garden around and the demure construction in the middle of it.

'Well, gorgeous indeed,' Lydia exclaimed.

'Let's hope the inside is not so dreary,' Kitty replied recollecting herself and refusing to admit she liked it. Mr. Prowler took her arm gently and all entered the house waiting to see what they should expect.

They were received by two maids and one butler in the main hall which was quite simple and bare, but tasteful, as it was black and white with modest sculptures and tall leather chairs. A chandelier reigned over their heads and two flights of stairs at each end of the room led to the upper levels.

Lizzie, Jane and their husbands had already entered the parlour. Georgiana was waiting at the door for Mary and the latter felt relieved to see her.

They all found comfortable places to sit as Mr. Fowler arrived and welcomed them all very politely and courteously. He still retained his cold demeanour, but seemed truly happy to have them as guests.

Some drinks and hors d'oeuvres were brought round and everyone was pleased as the fireplace shone cheerfully.

'Oh, but the Colonel I see, did not come,' he said half mocking sadness.

'I suppose he did not understand he had been invited to being with,' Mr. Darcy said swirling his glass of brandy.

Lizzie observed with mirth that a very elegant viola sat on the mantelpiece and without waiting invitation she asked Mr. Fowler about it.

He smiled pleased. 'Oh, it is just my guilty pleasure. I adore music and thus…claim to know how to play an instrument.'

'Oh, then do play for us,' Jane agreed gladly.

Mary did not look at him, but remembered her dreadful playing and said nothing.

Mr. Fowler obliged his audience and taking a fixed position, took up the viola and started playing.

It was quite beautiful, everyone would have agreed. His hands ran demonically over the cords, yet it was not superior talent. But it charmed all.

Whilst he played, Mary looked at his closed eyes and wondered why he was such an odd one. She would never have had the courage to play like that, impromptu and on demand.

When the solo was over, all the guests applauded strongly with the exception of Kitty and Mr. Prowler who did not seem much impressed.

'Well, it must have really softened your spirit, Miss Bennet,' Mr. Prowler addressed Mary as he saw her blush shyly.

She turned irritated, but said nothing.

Some pleasant conversation followed but as time passed, they all repaired to the dining room.

It was perhaps the most lugubrious room in the house but that did not stop it from being very majestic and even welcoming.

The lights glimmered dimly and the atmosphere was that of suspense as all sat down at the large oak table, resting their backs on hard, elegant iron chairs, cushioned loftily.

Lydia had the fortune of seating herself next to Mr. Fowler, whilst Kitty found herself and Mr. Prowler facing the unwanted gentleman.

'Nice seats we have indeed,' she muttered sullen.

No one stood at the head of the table. It was a rule established by Mr. Fowler and Mr. Darcy seemed impressed by such ethics.

Mary once again sat desolately with Georgiana and Jane but she did not waste a minute of the evening as she talked with her companion of all that could be talked of. However, she could hear Lydia's snide remarks.

'Oh, Mr. Fowler, who would have guessed you are a man of such talents? Why, playing the viola? I've never head of it!'

'I assure you, madam, many a great gentlemen I've met enjoy this leisure activity,' he replied politely.

'Ah, but do not call me madam, Sir. I am a young woman indeed, I simply had the horrid misfortune of losing a beloved husband.'

'Is that so…?'

Their conversation made Mary feel very uncomfortable and Georgiana took notice of it immediately.

'For a pained widow, she just won't cease talking, will she?'

Mary smirked. 'Oh, if your brother could hear you!'

'Ah, let him. All of them are rather stiff tonight, including you, Mary dear.'

'I am not…I feel quite at ease.'

Georgiana threw her an unconvinced look.

'If that is how they call it these days…'

Suddenly, there was great commotion around them as Jane sat up abruptly.

Forgetting her manners, she laughed happily touching her stomach.

'The baby, it moved! It kicked its little legs,' she exclaimed.

Charles turned red and excited, got up to assist his wife.

Lizzie joined her sister and giggling childishly, both took her to sit down in the drawing room which was ready for the guests.

'Oh, Jane, does it still kick?' Lizzie asked nervously.

'A little bit,' she said frightened.

The dining room was almost empty and as Georgiana got up, Mr. Fowler leaned over Mary's seat.

'Follow me, Miss Bennet,' he whispered.

Mary looked up at him, surprised and disconcert, wanting to go at Jane's side.

However, when she saw the excitement that had overtaken the drawing room she stepped back and seeing as Mr. Fowler was climbing a flight of stairs signalling her, she followed promptly.

'Sir,' she said as she walked next to him, 'it is not well for us to leave like that. Jane might need help.'

'She'll be alright, Miss Bennet. Women have children all the time and those children are born naughty as you see…' he said smiling amused.

'Still…'

'Now, now. Let us leave logic and command and let our wishes guide the way.'

She looked at him confused. They stood in a dark corridor and he suddenly pushed a heavy door.

As Mary stepped inside, she felt her breath stop.

It was as large as an amphitheatre, but it seemed a Roman arena. The air was tight, icy and sharp, the lights were celestial and imposing, but it was quite stunning.

The walls, the stairs, the chairs, everything was laden with books.

She seemed to be inside a spiral of books and when she looked up she saw the ceiling very far away, encircled by parchments.

Dust flew gently in front her and she scratched her noise.

Mary dared walk a few steps ahead, touching some old volumes on a rickety shelf.

'It's…'

'Quite amazing, isn't it?'

'Truly…I have never seen such a library before.'

'Mind you, it's not bigger than the one at Pemberley, but it seems a great deal more sinister.'

'Oh, the things you say…' she smiled and started inspecting the books.

Mr. Fowler watched her from afar.

'Oh, you can climb on these books?'

'Oh, yes, in order to reach other shelves.'

'But wouldn't that smudge and make the books dirty?'

'They were so when I got them.'

She spoke no more and turned a corner to search other parts of the vast room. It was a labyrinth of books, nothing like the organised one at the Darcy residence.

Suddenly, she felt very cold and alone. An odd, disturbing feeling overtook her. The silence was unbearable. Her fingers touched the volumes dreamily as China ink and printed letters remained on her dusty thumbs.

She felt she could dance on a sad song and collapse on her last legs among those books.

Mary broke the spell, however and without looking back, turned a corner to find Mr. Fowler.

Silly her, she bumped right into him as he had gone in search of her as well.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I had not seen you,' she managed to say.

He looked down at her with a soft smile.

'I was a bit afraid you had gone lost, Miss Bennet.'

'You would have found me…eventually, buried in these books.'

He took her hand and looked at it strangely.

'No doubt, your charm would have been increased. But…I hate to make compliments, so I will simply…'

He stopped short.

She waited in silence. He played with her fingers.

'One of these days I will come in my carriage to take you.'

Her eyes looked at him confused.

'Oh, not kidnap you, for Pete's sake. I will bring you here and we shall have a round of chess. I would not want to lose to you, now would I, Miss Bennet?'

'I suppose not, but I am not such a good player as my sisters profess…'

'Then let us find something which you shall conquer. Something you could attain victory over and I couldn't do a thing…' he said slowly taking her other hand and clasping them together ceremoniously.

He meant to bring the hands over his broad chest, but at the last moment let go and disappeared among the shelves.

Dazed, Mary leaned against a small wooden chair at her side.

'When, Sir?' she suddenly asked turning the corner to look after him. 'When will you come?'

But he had already left.

* * *

Blushing furiously and feeling incredibly stupid, she left the library in search for the party. Eventually, she found her way across the dark corridors and narrow flights of stairs but it took a good half hour. 

'Ah…why on Earth...' but she stopped short as she had finally arrived in the dining room again.

Sighing with relief she went to the drawing room, but found no one there.

Her calm dissipated as she started to panic.

'Goodness, they did not leave without me, did they?'

'Unfortunately not, Miss Bennet.'

She turned. Mr. Prowler, clearly looking displeased stood in the door.

'I've found her, she's here!' he shouted at Charles.

She then realised that she had gone missing and people were searching for her.

'Come along now…' he said.

She arrived in the main hall where Kitty was already wailing and Georgiana looked worriedly around her.

'Oh, here you are! Lord, I thought something had happened,' Georgiana said as she grasped Mary's hand.

'Mary what was the meaning of all that? We were worried,' Lizzie spoke.

She decided she could not have felt more embarrassed in her life.

However, she composed herself and managed to blurt out an answer.

'I…went exploring through the house. I found the library…'

'Oh, Mary will always be Mary,' Charles intoned amused.

Eventually everyone forgot about the incident and they all repaired to their vehicles.

It was quite cold and the petite phaeton was not a pleasure to ride in. Add that with Kitty's grumpy mood and Lydia's huffs for not having spent more time with Mr. Fowler and Mary's night was complete. Not to mention, Mr. Prowler seemed moody and volatile.

* * *

'Ah, wake up, sleepy head! Now it is I who must yank the sheets off of you!' 

Kitty's voice pierced her ears and she wished she could drown in her pillow.

'K-kitty…go away, would you…'

'Nonsense! It's half past nine, what an incredible idler you are!'

'I slept bad, last night.'

'And I do care, dear sister, but right now you have to get up.'

Mary sighed and flinging her quilt sat at the edge of her bed.

Kitty stood at her side, dressed in some very odd manly clothes, she had not seen before.

'Kitty? What on Earth are you wearing?'

'Ah, pardon me, it's a riding suit, if you have never heard.'

'It's ridiculous!'

'Mr. Prowler says it looks divine! Now come, make haste, dress up!'

'Whatever for?'

'Have you completely forgotten?'

Two weeks had passed since the memorable dinner at Huntington Park and Christmas was coming soon. Yet Mary felt as tired and indisposed as ever and wanted to go home, to lock herself up in her room and read the day away.

'Yes, I have. Now, would you kindly say?'

Then it dawned on her. _Oh, no…_

'Mr. Prowler will take us riding!' she beamed.

'Kitty, please, my head is killing me…'

'We had a deal, Mary! Do not be such a drag!'

'Bugger…'

'I heard that.'

'Yes, well, can I have a bit of privacy?'

Kitty huffed and exited the room.

'I'll be waiting outside.'

In the silence of her room Mary got up and still dizzy with sleep headed for the lavatory. As she splashed cold water on her face she wished some terrible rain would make their scheme impossible. She looked out the window.

'Curses…' she muttered. It was bright and sunny though bitingly cold.

She then realised she had no riding suit.

_Oh, well, I'll make do with what I have._

The two sisters walked across the fields, heading for the stables where Mr. Prowler was waiting excited and in high spirits.

A bit of frost had settled over the land, making it look surreal. The empty, hollow trees rang sadly as they walked in the cold sun.

'Mary, for heaven's sake, a dress while riding?'

'What? You propose something better?' she muttered as Kitty encircled her hand round hers.

'You could have borrowed Jane's suit. Lizzie gave me hers,' she said rolling her eyes.

Mary frowned. 'In any case, I should see you bow to the Colonel to settle up the service I am doing you.'

'And what service is that, pray?' Mr. Prowler asked. Mary cursed under her breath. She had not realised they were in front of him.

'Good morning, Mr. Prowler,' Kitty spoke politely.

James kissed their hands and rushed to bring out the horses.

'Now, this horse is for Miss Bennet,' he said bringing a dark copper stallion next to Mary.

'His name is Victor,' he said stroking him gently. Mary patted him unsure.

'Victor…strange name for a horse.'

'Well, it is Mr. Darcy who named it, not I.'

Another stallion, black and proud stood next to Kitty.

'Bonther looks happy to see you, Miss Catherine. He shares my feelings in that.'

Kitty smiled pleased.

'Now, let me show you how to mount.'

James rushed to Catherine's side and giving her a hand, helped her get up on the saddle, holding her waist carefully.

Kitty felt her face flush but she laughed happily.

He placed the hems in her hand and put her feet in the stairs.

'Will you be wanting a whip?'

'Oh, no never, I would hate to harm the poor thing,' she said still holding his hand.

'Well, then, let's make a few steps shall we?'

She nodded a bit nervous.

The proud horse was very obedient and kind, knowing he had a gentle female rider. Thus he moved slowly and patiently.

Mr. Prowler, never letting go, followed the trot of the horse until they had reached the small fence of the stable.

Kitty laughed happily.

'Ah, it's wonderful!'

'Well, then, ready to ride on your own a bit?'

'Most certainly.'

He let go and Bonther dared walk a bit faster as she rounded the stables two times, laughing happily.

Mary, meanwhile, decided she was apt enough to mount her horse by herself.

'Childish to be held like that...' she mumbled and with a fierce look on her face placed her hand on the hems.

'Alright, Victor, it's you and me now.'

With that she placed one foot on the stair and using all her might pushed herself onto the horse.

Her brave plan failed, however and she almost fell to the ground.

Luckily for her, James had noticed what she was doing and rushed to catch her.

Holding her by the waist he managed to stop her fall.

'Easy now, Miss Bennet, we do not wish to harm the poor horse.'

She felt furious. _The nerve of him…_

However, he placed her gently on the saddle, steadying her as best as he could.

Mary started swaying unceremoniously. She felt scared. She felt his hand move away and in a sudden spasm of fright said weakly 'Don't let go.'

'I was not going to, Miss Bennet,' he said smiling and guiding her towards the fence.

She walked a few steps and she felt more reassured.

Sighing with relief she thanked him, but wished to mount down.

However, Victor had a different opinion.

A long farm snake suddenly swished round his feet and in the rush of the moment, the terrified horse started to neigh frightened.

He broke into a run which baffled James himself.

'Aaaa!'

Mary screamed as she gripped the hems, dreading the fall that would soon come.

Victor ran and ran without stopping and she passed hills and trees without even seeing them.

The horse was throwing her high in the air but she held the hems with all her might.

'Yield! Yield!' she yelled at him. 'Victor, yield.'

It was of course useless.

Kitty looked frightened and shouted at Mary distressed.

'Mary, come back, what do you think you're doing?'

James laughed carelessly and mounting his horse rode with the speed of lightning to catch Mary.

He managed to reach Victor in time.

'Having fun, Miss Bennet?' he shouted at her as he rode next to her.

'Not quite! You said he was harmless!'

'I never did, you supposed so!'

'Argh, how can it be made to stop?' she asked angrily.

'I'm afraid it will stop when it hits the gates!'

She looked in front of her with horror. They were indeed heading for the tall, iron gates.

'Do something!'

'You have not said the magic word, Miss Bennet!'

'Of, for God's sake, please!'

He smiled. 'Oh, fine, fine, if you so insist!'

He rode past her and with a quick movement, got down and took charge of Victor, grabbing the slippery hems.

He used all his might to stop him in his gallop and was almost pushed into the gates, mud and soil dirtying his clothes, when finally, Victor relented and stopped abruptly.

Unfortunately, Mary let go too soon and was thrown in a puddle of rain.

'Ah! Wretches!' she said spitting dirty water.

James looked down at her, laughing with all his might as he wiped some mud from his forehead.

'You are a sight to behold, Miss Bennet.'

'And I thought I'd get through this in once piece…' she muttered glaring at him.

'Charming as always. Now, do get up and clean yourself. You do not look well, I must say.'

And with that he mounted his horse and rushed to calm Kitty down. The poor girl was running like crazy to reach Mary.

'Is she alright?' she shouted.

'She's perfectly well. Only her apparel is quite ruined,' he intoned out-loud.

Mary, huffing and puffing, rose from the puddle and taking out her handkerchief wiped her dirty face.

'And that's the last time I mount a horse…no offence, Victor,' she said looking at the horse. He neighed happily.

'Well, at least you're pleased…' she mumbled and getting up disappeared in the house.

* * *

Georgiana leaned against the lavatory door, giggling mischievously as a maid poured hot water over Mary's body. 

She found herself in the wooden tub, bathing herself or rather letting herself be bathed by a chambermaid called Susan. And again, she felt terribly embarrassed.

'I do not know what is so funny, Georgiana,' she said stiffly.

'You do not? You fell off a horse in a puddle! On your first ride! I find that hilarious!' she said laughing.

'Let's see that happen to you…' she muttered. Mary had some sores near her buttocks but she would admit that to no one.

'Well, I suppose it was Mr. Prowler's Christmas present.'

'I'd rather no have any of that, thank you,' Mary said cynically.

Christmas was three days away, but Mary was in so spirit for it.

'Ah, grumpy girl, we will put you to bed to read, how is that?' Georgiana intoned as she heard Mary get out of the tub.

'Excellent…'

* * *

Dinner that evening was not as pleasant as she had hoped. Another night of noisy people and her mother's booming voice…she had no wish to stay longer than it was due. Yet Mary missed her father and tonight he was eating up in his room, because he was too tired to come down. 

Mary was quite worried. It had been quite some time and he still was not completely recovered and whilst she had paid him a visit two days ago, she felt, in her current situation, that another one was needed.

In any case, it was the best excuse not to attend the entire dinner.

She entered his room quietly and saw that he had fallen asleep with the tray settled on a small table near the bed.

Mary smiled as she watched the old man's breast rise and fall in deep slumber. Or so she thought…but as she moved to tuck him better, his eyes opened.

'Mary…dear girl, what are you doing here?'

'I came to see you, papa. But you are tired…I should let you sleep.'

'Nonsense,' he said getting up and resting against his pillow. 'I was taking a nap only, but you would rather spend time with an old wart, instead of enjoying your time with the young ones?'

Mary sighed smiling.

'I'm afraid the youths are too wild for my taste. At least tonight.'

She sat down next to him.

'I heard of your little adventure today,' he said his eyes twinkling.

'Yes…and I'm sure everyone knows by now…'

'Well, nothing to be ashamed of dear, you cannot be expected to ride a horse without prior practice.'

'Quite right…but it was a nasty thing anyway.'

He remained silent for a while.

'You would tell me if something was on your mind, Mary, would you not?'

She looked at him surprised.

'Of course, papa. Forgive my mood, I simply dread the festivities that are to follow soon…'

'Ah, but you've always had a soft spot for Christmas.'

_Not this year…_

'I suppose you're right.'

'And this year I'll take you dancing two round across the Ball Room!' he said coughing loudly.

'Oh, don't exert yourself on my account!' she said placing a hand on his chest.

'Fiddles! I'd like to see you dance with all the handsome men across the room, Mary.'

'I wouldn't, however. Too tedious to dance so much.'

'You are young, you could bear it better than I did. Your mother was…too spirited for my tastes at times, but I managed.'

He coughed again, shaking his head. Saliva lingered on his chin and she could have sworn she saw something red too.

Mary bit her lip, worried. Her father…was not what he used to be. And she saw now an old man instead of the proud firm one he had been some months ago.

'Papa…'

'I'm alright, child…I'm…' he said coughing short, 'I'm alright.'

Mary looked away, tears almost coming to her eyes.

'You are not well…we should just go home,' she said sadly.

'Why should we do such a silly thing?'

'Because you are not well!' she insisted. 'This will not do you well, this atmosphere.'

'Mary…' mumbled as he took her hand. 'My happiness is being surrounded by family, nothing else.'

She smiled at him sadly and caressed his white whiskers.

'I realise…in my life…my greatest and only achievement has been you and your sisters.'

Mary held his hand tightly.

'And I'd be damned if I did not enjoy another Christmas with Mrs. Bennet and my girls.'

She kissed his hand softly.

'Giants and storms cannot hold us apart, my dear. It can never take me away…' he said shutting his eyes tiredly.

'What cannot father?'

But he brushed her hair with his eyes still closed and bade her be silent.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Jolly Christmas

Mr. Bennet seemed to recover his spirits a bit with the arrival of Christmas, but Mary was always alert if anything should happen. She visited him only she saw fit to, since her father had different moods and did not like to be bothered.

Mrs. Bennet found herself more annoyed than worried about her husband and mocked him playfully whenever they got up in the morning.

'You've lost your drive, dear Sir. Now you cannot torment me anymore.'

The old man always smiled pained at such allusions and felt that if he were in power again he would slap his wife. But as she leaned over his white hair to give him her usual peck before leaving the chamber all his anger would disappear and he would see in front of him only the scared maiden he had swept away more twenty years ago. Her father had never liked him and for a long time he had been slightly bothered by this nuisance. That all changed when he found out his wife was finally with child after nine months of marriage.

From that moment on, he felt a perverse pleasure knowing that there was nothing to be done anymore and her father could not even frown. He had done his duty, he had created a family.

Mr. Bennet did not love her when he married her and even when his little girls used to jump up and down surrounding him with kisses, he did not feel grateful for such a blessing. In order not to raise any suspicions, he dedicated himself to his daughters, forgetting that he had a wife.

Yet, when Jane left, when Lizzie left, even when Lydia left, he realised his façade could not last much longer. He knew everyone would eventually leave and he would remain alone, in a dusty house, keeping his wife company. And that thought paralysed him with fear. It was fear because she would discover…she would discover he only respected her deeply.

Thus he wished to prolong that moment or die before it could come to be.

Yet, ever since he arrived at Pemberley and his illness had intensified, he felt a strange regret that he had not spent more time with her. Even when he did not have business in town, he invented all sorts of schemes in order not to have to be in her presence for too long.

It was a cold, insufferable, wretched morning. It was December 23 and he felt as old as time. However, he could finally get out of bed and wished Mary would accompany him in the gardens a bit.

As he raised himself from the pillows, a hard hand helped him get up.

'Mr. Bennet, nice of you to stop idling. Now, you shall join me on a walk.'

Mrs. Bennet looked at him expectantly. Her eyes shone with mock and love.

'What about the girls?' he asked weakly knowing she usually spent her time sewing in the drawing room while listening to her daughters' incessant talking.

'They have no time for me. Not even dear Lizzie and Jane, my dear girls are trying hard to get everything ready for tomorrow. I've told them to let the maids help them, but they are as stubborn as a mule in that.'

'As they should be…' he said amused.

'Make haste then and get dressed.'

With that she left quickly as if she were a wild deer running from her hunter.

He felt quite foolish, reviving his youth years but he put on his church clothes, nevertheless and took his silvery cane.

She joined him outside their chambers, like an expectant fiancée and without looking back they both went down in the gardens, supporting each other's weight to emphasise their old age.

The howling wind stopped for a moment to watch them stroll across the iron coloured burnt grass as the late chrysanthemums bowed, dead at their feet.

Lonely hills spoke to them of what could have been had they been separated, grey skies made them silent as years and memories ran across their eyes with a frightening speed.

She was wearing a white, heavy dress and black strands escaped her tight bun, flying playfully in the air.

'Ah, Mr. Bennet, how beautiful…' she exclaimed as he coughed heavily.

'Dear woman, it is cold and barren, beauty has no place here.'

She frowned and poked him playfully on the cheek.

'And what now, am I not beauty enough for you?'

She laughed of old age, looking through him across the fields.

Mr. Bennet was about to reply, but a strange fear overtook him and he simply tightened his grip on her hand.

She smiled sadly and intoned strange words he had not thought of before.

'Have no fear Mr. Bennet, I am here, death shan't cross us yet.'

He did not cry, or sigh. But he smiled at her, the only genuine smile he had ever given her.

The moment passed by and as the wind kept howling she started chatting about Kitty and Mary and how she felt she would never see them settled and die with that horrid pain.

Mr. Bennet did not listen too much. He never did. Instead, he thought that he could not have been old at all. In fact, he must have been no more than twenty three since he had just started loving his wife.

* * *

Miss Bingley, meanwhile, was exacting her sweet revenge for not having had the opportunity to join the family on their visit to Mr. Fowler's house and was trying as best as she could to make Lizzie discomfit as she aided her in preparing the house for the celebrations.

Elizabeth was considering telling her off, but only her good manners kept her from rebelling as she used to when she was sixteen and a friend of Mrs. Bennet's had exclaimed that she had never seen a more bedraggled child.

'Miss Elizabeth,' she would say refusing to include her as a Darcy, 'I do not think you should ignore the advice of a woman with age and experience.'

'Why, _Miss_ Bingley, you are perfectly right, but I do not wish to bother my mother for this task,' she replied insolently. Miss Bingley left the room furiously, pretending to retire for a bit of rest.

'She won't be breathing for far too long in your presence,' Mr. Darcy used to tell her amused, though such prospect was not a sad one in his twisted mind.

In the end, Jane managed to convince Miss Bingley to assist Georgiana with her etiquette lessons and spend more time with the young girl, rather than try to be of any use to Lizzie.

This earned Jane Georgiana's utter dislike and for long she could not forgive the eldest sister for sacrificing her like that at the mercy of a crazed spinster.

Yet, she relented with Mary's help and accepted to listen and even discuss certain issues with Miss Bingley concerning dress, manners and instruments.

'Miss Darcy, I will make you a lady indeed if you but respect my word, you shall see, all your past misery will be forgotten,' she used to say and poor Georgiana had to restrain her urge to make a mockery out of her.

'That woman thinks I shall marry the king if I simply start walking and acting like her!' she used to exclaim to Mary when they sat together in her room. 'I only hope she will be gone soon with her brother and his kind wife.'

'You know your anger towards Jane is useless…' Mary tried to tell her softly.

'And well intended, I assure you. In fact, Mr. Bingley was very close to marrying me, to tell you the truth.'

After this stale statement they did not talk for another two days.

Mary felt very lonely indeed and knew that all this misfortune was caused by the dreadful atmosphere in the house and only wished Christmas would pass faster.

In the midst of all this she found some small comfort in talking to Kitty on their trivial walks across the grounds. The chilly weather bit her cheeks and made her eyes water, but she did not want to spend too much time inside where she could fall in the nets of a disgusting depression.

'Where is Lydia, by the by? I haven't seen her all that much,' Mary asked her as they passed the stables making Kitty smile reminiscent.

'Oh, she went to call on Mrs. Woble, the pastor's wife. It seems she has taken a liking to her since this is the fourth time she visits.'

'Have you seen the woman?' Mary asked curiously.

'Mr. Prowler has and tells me she's very ignorant but charming indeed.'

'Then it is justified…' she said cynically.

'Ah, how mean you are,' Kitty intoned poking her playfully.

After some moments of cold silence the younger sister dared speak of something quite never breached before.

'What is this business between you and Mr. Fowler?'

'I beg your pardon?' she started surprised.

'Oh, come Mary, do not play innocent with me, I am not blind you know.'

'I have nothing to say regarding Mr. Fowler, but that he is a pleasant acquaintance.'

'An insufferable one you mean, at least to everyone else.'

'Nonsense, he is well liked by all.'

'Ha! You, however, are blind. Well then, we shall see him on New Year's Eve and then I shall laugh at your attempts to hide your blush.'

* * *

Christmas Eve came when no one really expected it or wished it, as it seemed only Mr. and Mrs. Bennet found happiness in the prospect.

Everyone seemed put off and wanted to be alone away from the presence of others. Georgiana barely talked to her brother and he tried in vain to make peace with her, but he shared Mary's pain as Miss Darcy locked herself up in the piano room with Miss Bingley, playing as loud as she could so as not to hear the woman's rattling voice.

Yet, it seemed that a ray of hope and joy might break that grey cloud as in the evening the entire family would reunite for the Christmas dinner.

All Lizzie's work would pay off in the end, she hoped as she truly considered the peace of spending one Christmas with her husband only.

Kitty was in a state of odd agitation and Mary could barely calm her down as she paced her room up and down waiting for Lydia to come home from yet another visit to Mrs. Woble.

Lydia had even insisted to invite her and her husband to the Christmas dinner but Mr. Darcy refused firmly, making the youngest sister address him some very shameless insults under her breath.

'Ah, this is all wrong. Why must we make such a ceremonious event of it? There's no use for it… I'd rather simply share the presents and go off to bed,' she said sulkily.

'And what has gotten into you?' Mary asked amused as she leaned against the drawer.

'Nothing at all. Look,' she told her sister as she pointed towards a small bundle under her bed.

'That's where I keep my gifts. Everyone will be pleased that I thought before time. You know, I've had them ready since October! Really, I have.'

Mary smiled, shaking her head.

Kitty fumbled with her dresses which were laid across the bed, waiting to be picked as the perfect one.

'What do you think? Which shall make me look presentable?'

'You know I have no taste for these things…' Mary replied.

'Ah! You too, then. Be a bother, why not? It's horrid enough as it is.'

The elder sister wondered briefly why Catherine was so discomposed but then she remembered the Colonel had been invited as well.

'Oh, so that's what's bothering your little soul,' Mary intoned amused.

'What can you mean?' she said turning abruptly.

'Oh, I shall laugh at your attempts to hide your blush!' she spat, repeating her sister's mocking words.

'Ha. Ha. Very funny indeed, Mary. If you think the Colonel has any effect…'

'Did I ever mention him?' Mary said chuckling.

'Ah! Get out!' Kitty yelled throwing a comb after her.

* * *

Darkness fell upon the lands rapidly, engulfing the house in shadows and mists as the wind died down and not even a breeze shook the barren trees guarding the gates.

If one entered the great Pemberley hall, one would see or hear nothing, everything was silence and dreams as some lost scullery maid swept the floors, invisible to any visitor.

Soon, however, that silence was broken as a brash voice erupted in the entire house.

'Mr. Bennet, what on Earth did you do to your waistcoat? How will you look presentable tonight?! Ah!' Mrs. Bennet bellowed distraught.

It seemed her voice woke everyone up and shyly, as if seeing the world for the first time, the members of the family came out of their respective chambers, smiling and intoning "Merry Christmas" to each other.

All the presents had been brought in the drawing room as they sat ceremoniously on the mantelpiece, shining oddly in the fire's light, but no one dared go there until after dinner.

Georgiana let herself be led by her brother downstairs but showed no sign of remorse at having fallen out with him. Instead she held her head high and fixed her gaze on a faraway dot across the room.

She missed Mary terribly and planned on apologising tonight, establishing a sort of truce between the two friends, yet she would not show any compassion to Mr. Darcy.

Kitty and Lydia looked ravishing, the latter having kept her charms despite her large belly and they both shone with pride at their apparel. Lydia was scowling and frowning, however, because she knew it would be tedious and boring without the company she wanted.

Thus, everyone gathered in the grand dining room which looked a tad more cheerful with the help of Lizzie and Jane as they had placed red ribbons on the chairs and put a white tablecloth patterned with purple and pink flowers to hide the dark, rickety aspect of the furniture.

The Colonel arrived promptly, dressed in his elegant military uniform which he rarely wore because it made him look more like a Spanish imperialist rather than an English gentleman. Nevertheless, he looked quite handsome and presentable which only increased Kitty's flutter.

Mr. Prowler, who had not taken such great care with his apparel, seemed indisposed to see that Catherine no longer looked only at him across the table. He had gone hunting through the woods with his loyal horse that day, in order to set his mind clear and think of what he must do, but he found himself in a sad state, wishing more to return to London as he sat glued to his chair in the dim dining room.

The irony made it that Mary was sitting next to him, picking at her food and not seeming to be in the best of moods. Her row with Georgiana was now affecting her more than before as she had no one to talk to, but for James and Miss Bingley on the other side.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet seemed to have recovered their youth again as they talked and laughed with everyone around them, Mr. Bennet albeit being far more poised than his wife, but truly content and full of mirth.

Mary found some comfort seeing that her father was enjoying himself, but could not suppress a sigh since she had to stand her neighbours for almost two hours.

As she looked across the table she saw that Catherine and the Colonel were sitting in a suspicious proximity but refusing to notice each other's presence.

Even though the cruet was right next to Kitty, he asked Lydia to get it for him since he did not want to bother Catherine. In the same way, Kitty asked Lydia to pass her the bowl of mashed potatoes even though the Colonel was holding it. This little game annoyed Lydia so much that she deliberately sat up, scowled strongly and found another seat next to Mrs. Bennet who did not even notice her huffs and puffs.

'They're acting like children, really…' Mary muttered rolling her eyes as she stabbed the red meat in her plate.

'Whom do you speak of, Miss Bennet?' James suddenly asked her curiously.

She turned surprised that she had been heard and tried to breach another subject, but she suddenly considered that this would be a good opportunity to let him know her sister was already engaged, though only by feelings, to the Colonel.

'Those two…'she said casually nodding towards them, 'making such a fit about addressing each other. Who would have thought relationships were so complicated?'

James frowned, taken slightly aback, but his smirk returned to his lips as he sipped from his glass of wine.

'Ah, you wouldn't know, now, would you, Miss Bennet? But indeed, Miss Catherine and Colonel Fitzwilliam seem to be leading a battle of lovers. Who will win? I think the lady shall. They always do.'

This was not the answer she expected, but Mary did not wish to back down half-way through.

'Perhaps…in any case, if one wins they both do. That's how it goes for lovers and no one can break that path.'

He smiled bitterly and shook his head.

'And yet you have no experience to speak of, Miss Bennet. These are just empty words. Or have you ever loved then?'

She frowned and remained silent, but he continued.

'Oh, but please, do not be put out because of my impertinence, I find your theories very amusing.'

'Amusing?' she asked calmly. 'I'd rather say, Sir, they should be enlightening to unfit suitors.'

'Remarkable way of making me jealous, Miss Bennet! It's a pity it does not touch me at all. Am I to understand you do not wish me to approach your sister?'

Flustered, Mary answered in a dry voice.

'I'd rather you did not, Sir.'

'And why is that?'

'Because you might perhaps ruin her chance of ever being happy,' she replied coldly.

'Miss Bennet, if you think I am the one standing in the way of her _joining_ the Colonel then you obviously know nothing of Miss Catherine. When a woman wants to have a man, no bridge, no fire, no obstacle will stand in her way.'

Mary considered these words and admitted to herself that Kitty would have to give up her vanity for it, but did not want to give Mr. Prowler that satisfaction.

'If you claim so then do not confuse her anymore with your incessant flirting and courting. Let her be, you know how she is easily influenced…'

'Why should I, when it is so amusing and refreshing after such a dreary London as mine. Yet I had no idea you thought so little of your sister,' he replied chuckling.

Mary's face reddened but she was poised enough to remember where she was.

'You do not have any serious intentions with her, yet you trifle with this issue as if…'

'And who told you I have no serious intentions?' he asked.

She looked at him with horror. 'You do not intend…'

'Maybe I do, maybe I do not. I shall see to it, Miss Bennet. Now, what is the cause of this fit? Are you still upset with me that Victor found you as charming as I do?'

Mary did not wait to hear more, but made to get up.

'Sit down, there is no need to break off the wonderful dinner simply because I dared challenge you, Miss Bennet,' he said pressing her hand.

She glared at him and opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment Miss Bingley decided to interrupt.

'And what is the commotion about, Miss Bennet?'

'Nothing, madam, we were only having a pleasant chat, weren't we, Miss Bennet?'

'Yes...' she muttered annoyed as she tightened the grip on her wine glass.

'Oh, do let me hear what you are saying,' Miss Bingley intoned interested.

Mary sighed covering her eyes with her hands.

* * *

After two long, gruelling hours the party made to retire to the drawing room where the presents waited. Mary considered this a blessing from God as she could barely contain her anger any longer. Distancing herself as best as she could from both James and Caroline, she hurried to find a solitary place near the fireplace where she could observe Kitty and she would not be too noticed, vexed as she was.

As Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy already started unpacking some boxes and Lizzie poured some brandy in her father's glass, Georgiana came up to her with a soft smile.

'There you are, hiding like always.'

Mary smiled relieved. 'Now more than ever. Georgiana I…'

'Do not say a word. I was a nasty little girl when I said those things and believe it or not, I even considered apologising to Jane Bingley for it, but changed my mind quickly afterwards.'

Mary managed a short laugh as she took her hand in hers.

'My point was that I am sorry. And I apologise. I'd like to be on speaking terms again, though.'

Mary nodded happily and the two embraced each other laughing as Mr. Darcy watched them with a sad look in his eye.

'What are you two laughing about?' Lizzie said as she ruffled Mary's hair. 'Come now. Do you not want to see the presents?'

The three of them joined the party as Kitty was just handing her father as a gift, another one of her embroidered handkerchiefs, which had his initials on it. She made the same gift every year knowing how often her father lost his handkerchiefs, thus Mr. Bennet felt more than delighted at the sight of it and kissed his daughter warmly on the forehead.

Catherine laughed good-humouredly and taking another small package waited a moment, took a long breath and with firm steps, approached the Colonel who was standing next to Mr. Bingley.

'Merry Christmas, Sir,' she intoned shyly as she handed him the package.

Everyone was stunned by this, including Mr. Prowler who stood transfixed in the door way as he watched on curiously. A deep silence engulfed the room as, an even more baffled Colonel, reached out to take the package.

He forgot to thank her, but only fumbled nervously with the present until he discovered it was a similar handkerchief, white and soft, with his red initials on the front of it.

He was so impressed by this gesture that he could find no words to express his sudden joy, but Catherine only bowed and let her hand be kissed.

Mary forgot all her bitter feelings and smiled with pleasure seeing as Kitty had not forgotten their deal.

For the rest of the evening, Kitty and Jane sat at a small coffee table watching Mr. Bingley and the Colonel playing chess or backgammon and the latter was in such ecstasy that he won almost every game, searching shyly for Catherine's approving smile.

Mr. Prowler, however, did not show his displeasure, but only found some amusement in talking with Mr. Bennet of London affairs and different local news. They both seemed engaged in their talk, but from time to time Kitty would address him across the room with some trifle that did not even bother the Colonel.

Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Caroline sat in a corner gossiping without release all that was to happen at the New Year's Eve Ball and no one dared interrupt them or join their vicious circle.

As for Mary and Georgiana, they sat together with the Darcys but their conversation was cold and prompt, seeing as Mr. Darcy and his sister refused to participate in the discussion, giving each other only sad looks. Not even Lizzie's wit made him smile as he used to and Mary felt how strange and desolate the atmosphere was. The only thing that made her smile was the Colonel's repeated victories.

After a while, however, Mr. Bingley retired letting Mr. Prowler replace him as he sat down at the cards table, facing the Colonel. They both looked at each other impassively as if preparing for a cold battle, but neither showed any sign of discontent.

Kitty was so delighted with this arrangement that she intoned in a sweet voice that whoever won the match would have her hand at the Ball.

With such prize in mind, the Colonel knitted his brows in concentration, trying not to fail as Mr. Prowler barely showed a care, smirking with amusement as he moved the bishop on the chess board.

Catherine stood behind Mr. Prowler, watching the game and frowning slightly, as if threatening the Colonel not to lose. It seemed as though she was on the wrong side of the table as she did not even notice Mr Prowler's presence next to her.

'Well, James seems to have won this time!' Charles exclaimed amused as the game ended.

Kitty let go of the folds of the dress she had been holding and giving the Colonel an upset look congratulated Mr. Prowler on his victory.

'Now my dances shall all be yours,' she said accusingly, but smiled complacently, giving James her hand.

'Just as expected,' he replied.

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked crestfallen as he did not get up from his chair. He looked down at the warm rugs and only touched the handkerchief disappointed.

'It's midnight. Let us all raise our glasses,' Mr. Darcy suddenly spoke up.

'Merry Christmas' everyone intoned in a rather tired voice as their glasses clinked.

'And I hold the cup for the most beautiful daughters a man could have and the dearest wife,' Mr. Bennet replied happily though his voice shook slightly.

His wife kissed him ceremoniously making everyone laugh but as Mary tasted her wine she realised it was as sour as ever.

The stars faded in the darkness of the cold winter sky as a candle on the mantelpiece flickered joyfully.

* * *

'What are you thinking about?' Georgiana asked as they both swung in the wooden swing, the cold wind playing in their hair. The garden looked as empty as a cemetery even though some rays of sunlight shone shyly.

No snow had fallen, no sign of rain, only bitter weather.

'I want to go home…' she replied.

'You've gotten tired of me?' she asked amused.

'Everyone seems displeased…father is not well and now Catherine…' she continued.

Georgiana looked at her sadly. 'You worry too much.'

'I do not worry enough, perhaps…it's all wrong, everything went wrong.'

'What did?'

'Well, that was not the warm, cosy Christmas we had expected, was it?' she said dryly.

'It was just as any other family Christmas. Tedious.'

Mary laughed bitterly.

'You think so?'

'I do. But maybe you should find time to worry about the only person you seem to ignore.'

'And who is that?'

'Yourself,' Georgiana replied.

Mary brushed the comment off and only looked across the horizon, as if trying to see the other half of the world.

'Missus, Miss Catherine is a'calling you,' a soft, stale voice addressed her and she noticed the scullery maid was standing in front of her.

'What for?' Georgiana asked, but the maid knew not.

As they both entered the house they found a distraught Kitty in the hallway, pacing nervously.

'Catherine, what happened?' Mary asked.

'Oh, Mary, there you are, you must come with me.'

'Whatever for?'

'Mr. Prowler has invited me on a walk, but I do not wish to go alone, please, you must come!' she said in one breath.

Mary barely had the time to understand when a sudden noise made them look outside. A luxurious carriage had stopped in front of the entrance stairs.

The doors opened and a tall man with an eager, sharp look walked across the room, not addressing anyone. He bowed to Mary and lifted his hand as Kitty and Georgiana looked on baffled.

'Miss Bennet, I came as I promised,' Mr. Fowler said in a grave voice.

Mary was at a loss for words, but she suddenly heard Georgiana speak.

'I'll come with you Catherine, if you like.'

Kitty nodded but did not look at her, her gaze being fixed on Mr. Fowler.

'Well, then?' he asked again.

Unsure and confused, Mary gave him her hand and without wasting a moment he rushed her to his carriage and soon they were both out of sight, leaving the two girls looking after them in complete disbelief.

'Father won't be pleased…' Catherine murmured.

* * *

Mary stepped out of the carriage as Mr. Fowler led her towards the entrance hall. In broad daylight, the grounds looked wilder, if possible, with over-grown ferns and plants threatening to swallow the dull yet proud mansion.

'Do you plan on...' she asked looking at the garden.

'Not at all. I enjoy such mystical scenery and I shall leave it that way till I die.'

The house seemed empty and silent as their steps echoed across the walls.

'Is there no one in the house?'

'The servants remain in their quarter.' Noticing her doubtful look he smiled.

'If you fear I shall murder you and bury your body in my wild garden, then let me tell you I never harm my chess opponents.'

She laughed, considering herself rather silly for worrying so.

'Well, I do not suppose my family will very much agree with this visit.'

'And I could not care less, Miss Bennet.'

Without any sort of other small talk he took her hand and led her towards the drawing room. She wanted to retract her hand but he held it tightly as they passed different rooms, of different colour, of different time. The air inside that house was suffocating, warm and cold at the same time and instead of blushing, Mary was quite white. Her heart beat had not intensified, instead it had become slower. The house had quite an effect on her.

The faded sun lit their faces as they sat down at the chess board, facing each other ceremoniously. Framed pictures were spread across the walls showing warriors in their battle, bloody moments in history, red covering the canvasses. The fireplace was cold and empty as only cinder whispered strange chants to her.

The game started. He did not look at her at all. She did not look at him. He was indeed a very good opponent, perhaps too good for Mary, but she refused to give up. Black and white squares played in front of their eyes in such a rush that Mary did not even hear him.

'Checkmate.'

She stopped and looked up. He looked pleased, yet disappointed.

'Again.'

One brow shot up as he smirked craftily.

They started a new game, but before long she heard him intone his victory as he had done before.

'One more time,' she replied coldly. 'One more time.'

He complied. Another storm of black and white started, with no room left for grey. Only good or evil battled and Mary knew she would win. The pawns hit the chessboard with anger as she let some drops of sweat glide down her forehead.

He tried showing his superiority but her will was too strong.

'Checkmate,' she said pushing his king with her index finger.

They looked at each other as if transfixed. She had wanted so much to win that a feeling close to hatred had engulfed her, but looking at his beaming face she found peace again.

'Excellent game, Miss Bennet. I should know when I am defeated.'

She smiled humbly.

'Perhaps now you'll chide me for my lack of manners,' Mr. Fowler mused as he got up and called the butler.

'We shall have a spot of tea if you like, but we'll only stay a while.'

The tea was brought in as they sat by the window, gazing at the desolate meadows.

'Drink up while it's warm,' he said as he stood next to her. Their shoulders touched but neither said anything.

_What a strange man indeed…_she thought.

'It's odd that you should tempt me, Miss Bennet to do something I should not,' he suddenly spoke.

'What do you mean?'

He slowly encircled her hand with his and kissed it lightly.

'Well then you finished your tea. Now I can take you back home,' he said not letting go of her hand.

The large carriage drove off again through the cold fields as he smiled at her mirthfully. His eyes seemed to say "We share a secret" and she understood that she should not tell anyone too much of the meeting.

Before they arrived at Pemberley he squeezed her hand one more time and let her go. However, before leaving he addressed her.

'You shall expect me soon. I do want to settle up my defeat.'

Catherine and Georgiana had not come back yet from their walk with Mr. Prowler, thus she found herself free and alone to think in her room.

No doubt, they would ask. No doubt, she would keep her secret.

'But what secret is that?' she asked herself, though she felt she knew.

* * *

Mary did not have to wait long for Mr. Fowler to return as he came back every day to take her to his house to play chess. Most of the family had noticed this odd happening, but strangely enough only Mr. Bennet once told her she would better not visit the gentleman so often.

Georgiana acted as an accomplice and, whilst always chatting with her about those visits, made it possible so that others knew very little of them. She tried as best as she could to see her friend smile and even chided Catherine for mocking Mr. Fowler and his odd way of courting.

Mrs. Bennet was in ecstasy and thought only how lucky Mary was to be approached by such a gentleman as Lizzie and Jane could do nothing more but share her opinion. The only ones who were truly indisposed were Mr. Bennet and Lydia, the latter considering Mr. Fowler would have been a good match for her.

Nonetheless, for seven days he came ceremoniously and Mary followed him without thinking of the consequences.

On the fourth day, however, he did not draw up the chessboard, but decided only to talk and read as he brought volumes of books for them to enjoy in front of the fireplace.

'You have finally given up, then?' Mary asked him playfully.

'I have. It's time I admitted the truth,' he spoke gravely.

Some minutes passed in silence as both started reading. Mary, however, could not silence her curiosity and chose to speak.

'What truth is that?'

He did not lift his eyes from the book. 'The truth is I hate chess and derive no pleasure from it. I also dislike company or friends.'

Mary looked at him baffled and confused.

He reached for her hand and placed it in his palm. 'Well, then, you should consider yourself the exception, Miss Bennet.'

When they did not wish to read anymore, they would unanimously and silently choose to take a walk together, as if they were an old married couple.

He showed her the house thoroughly, leading her in a sort of rhythmic pace of a dance through each room.

They even dared a walk in the wild garden and as cold as it was, it still looked like a dead summer reigned there. She usually encircled her hand around his arm and walked fearfully next to him as if four years had passed and not four days.

'May I ask you something, Sir?'

'You may ask and I may choose to reply or not.'

'What is your birth name?'

He smiled at her. 'Guess, then.'

She frowned. 'Well…I would say Edward?'

He shook his head.

'George, Richard, Henry?'

'No, but you are close. British names all sound like horse excrement really.'

She laughed, but continued to think.

'Don't tell me you have the name of a woman?' she asked.

He sighed. 'It's Harold.'

'Oh…'

They both started laughing.

'It's an interesting name.'

'I beg to differ.'

'At least better than Mary.'

'And why is your name uninteresting?'

But she remained silent.

On the fifth day he tried to teach her how to dance. She refused politely, but he did not want to hear anything of the kind.

'There is no music, Sir.'

'We do not need it. We need only imagine the sounds.'

It was another late morning, since the visits took place only at that time and feeling tired and listless Mary wanted nothing to do with it.

'Come now. You must…Or do you think I will take the chance to have another shameful dance with you at the Ball?'

His mentioning of it made her blush slightly.

'I have told you, Sir, I am not meant to dance.'

'Then you shan't dance with me. And that would truly indispose me, since I do not wish to dance with anyone else.'

This argument convinced her and they could be seen gliding across the room as he intoned strange commands to her which only made her laugh more.

He barely held her waist as he let her lead.

'I thought the man led.'

'Did I tell you to speak, Miss Bennet? Now, head up high and slide gracefully…move your arms, do not keep them stiff.'

She complied and turned.

'I said gracefully. Try again, come.'

They continued so until the clock chimed. It was almost two o' clock.

'Late indeed…' he said as he smiled at her.

The last day before the Ball, he swept her off again very early in the morning, despite Mrs. Bennet's alarm at not having time to get ready for the coming night. Even Georgiana was slightly puzzled, but again, no one dared comment too much.

Half asleep and half confused, Mary looked out the window again, watching at the same time Mr. Fowler walk across the room in a nervous pace.

'Close your eyes, Miss Bennet.'

At first she did not wish to oblige, but seeing as he was serious she obeyed.

Suddenly, two soft arms touched her white, smooth neck as a soft click was heard at her nape.

His fingers lingered on her collarbone but he eventually let go.

When she opened her eyes she saw reflected in the glass a beautiful pearl necklace.

'I want you to wear this tonight as I dance with you. This will prove your dances are to be mine only.'

She looked at him stunned.

'Sir, it's too much, I could never take it.'

'Fine, do not take it but I do not want to see you again if so.'

Mary did not know what to say. She was very puzzled by such behaviour. She barely knew him and had only spent a week in his company and he was already giving her jewellery.

As if guessing her thoughts he smiled.

'I am not your usual suitor, Miss Bennet. I quite loathe those twits with long hair and hopeful eyes who wait a year to kiss the lady's hand. I act quickly. That is where people make their mistake…They lose things because they do not take hold of them quickly enough.'

Mary had never heard such a theory and she was at a loss for words since Mr. Fowler had deliberately admitted he was in fact, a suitor after all.

He approached her slowly and kissed her softly on her forehead.

'Now then, Pemberley awaits our return.'

* * *

'This early? For Goodness' Sake…' Georgiana exclaimed as she sat on her bed facing Mary.

'Would you keep your voice down?' Mary whispered slightly vexed.

'Very well then, how did it go?'

'As it usually goes. A strange man…a strange house…and I do not know anymore,' she replied as she took out from her pocket the pearl necklace.

'Lord!' Georgiana almost shrieked as she snatched it surprised.

'It's beautiful...' she murmured as she inspected it carefully. 'And it must cost a fortune.'

'That's not the point…'

'I know very well. But why did he give it?'

'He told me to wear it at the Ball tonight.'

Georgiana looked up and smiled. 'Then it's obvious. You are his chosen one!'

'Whatever do you mean?'

'All gentlemen give a token of affection to the one they have selected to be their…'

'Do not say it. It's too ridiculous!'

'And why is that?' she asked disconcert.

'Because Georgiana, I barely know the man.'

'But you know how strange he is…perhaps that is his usual approach.'

Mary looked around the room and sighed.

'It's all very confusing. He admitted, in a way, that he is courting me. But how could I be sure?'

'Mary. Are you happy?'

'What do you mean?'

'Are you happy when you are in his presence?'

'I…I cannot say. I guess so. If that is happiness…but I cannot define it.'

Georgiana laughed. 'Ah, you truly are infatuated.'

Mary frowned. 'Impossible, it's only been seven days.'

'More like seven years for you,' she sang.

She tried smiling, but she kept feeling very dizzy.

'Why are you so frightened?' Georgiana asked at length.

Mary looked up. 'He…I don't know anything about him.'

'You have an entire life to find out.'

'You speak as if we were already married,' she snapped.

'Not really, but he shan't give up that easily just because you are afraid of commitment.'

'What do you mean?' Mary asked as she got up and started pacing across the room, holding the necklace.

'Mary Bennet, you are afraid of commitment, of marriage. Admit it.'

'I am not,' she replied weakly.

Georgiana scoffed.

'Alright, maybe I am. Is that a crime?'

Miss Darcy giggled and without saying anything else about it rushed her to her room to get her ready for the Ball.

'It's only eleven in the morning!' Mary protested.

'And the Ball starts at six. Be kind and stop being absurd.'

Mary flung herself on her bed and grabbed a book.

'Ah, you are impossible,' Georgiana said as she threw the dresses on the bed.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Meeting at Midnight

'No, Lydia, you cannot borrow that necklace…'

'Kitty, don't be stingy, it goes better with my dress.'

'I think I'll take it.'

'It clashes horribly with that lavender gown of yours…'

'I presume that's jealousy speaking.'

'Jealousy? Ha! Better a plump woman like I than a puerile creature like you!'

'Ah, fine take it!'

Kitty sat heavily on the bed examining her corduroy folds.

'Thank you for finally seeing reason.'

The room was laden with ribbons and veils of all colours and yet it all felt so cold, no matter how colourful.

It felt cold because her heart couldn't stop beating.

'One more hour…' she told herself.

'What did you say?' Lydia asked as she sat in front of the mirror. Her chestnut hair was now raised in an elegant bun which only emphasised her status as wretched widow. However, she was quite lovely. Despite her corrupt ways, she was a charming young lady.

Or so Kitty thought. For a long time now she had stopped thinking of Lydia as a role model. She knew that there were better men out there than Wickham. She was certain that…but she would go no further.

Catherine looked at her sister's dark green dress and wished she was with child and married so she wouldn't have to face the people downstairs who were probably waiting to see the single, lovely Miss Bennet.

The wall paper which had pelican motifs made her dream of a far away sea, somewhere on a far away beach…she would be walking…her hair blowing in the wind. It was ruthless to have to give up such fantasy for the mere sake of society.

'I wonder how Mary is doing…' she said out-loud before she could stop herself.

'Ha! That little traitor. Well, she can have him. I don't like his conniving odd ways, anyway,' Lydia intoned angrily.

'Do you speak of Mr. Fowler?' Kitty asked.

'Who else? Ah, you were right, he is ever so old.'

Catherine suppressed a giggle. 'There will be plenty of gentlemen to dance with you tonight, have no fear.'

'Not with this package…' she replied sourly looking at her stomach.

'Come now, it only makes you look more mature.'

'Pass me that ribbon, will you?'

* * *

Mary paced the room up and down nervously casting a solitary glance from time to time at the pearl necklace on her bed.

'Should I wear it or not? Should I…'

'Mary! Who are you talking to?' a voice bellowed across the room. In the adjacent chamber Georgiana was putting on her stockings and she was having a hard time enough dressing herself, for she refused to have the maids help her.

'No one…no one at all,' Mary replied. She turned and went to the secret door.

'Are you done yet?' she asked talking through the wall.

'Almost…well these tasteless things I have to wear will surely help.'

'I could lend you something…' Mary replied.

'I do not wish to offend you Miss Bennet, but yours aren't any better.'

'Fair enough.'

Some minutes passed and Mary decided to read a little as to while away the time but she heard her friend calling.

'Alright, here I come.'

A lovely little dove burst through the door as Georgiana appeared, dressed in a lovely short-sleeved white satin gown which only enhanced her watery kind eyes. Her auburn, almost golden locks glided down her shoulders majestically as she fidgeted childishly with some wild strands which were stuck under her ears.

'Oh, quite ugly indeed,' Mary said cynically. 'Ah, if Mr. Bingley were but single…'

'I said I was sorry, alright?' Georgiana muttered.

'I was merely teasing you, you silly child. No one shall be able to resist you. You look charming, Miss Darcy.'

'And you…' she started but she stopped short as she noticed Mary, 'are not ready!'

The girl yawned and went to open her drawer.

'I left those dresses there, you didn't try at least one?' Georgiana asked scandalized by such idleness.

'Not really…it's quite early…'

'Half an hour!' she almost bellowed. 'You have half an hour left!'

'Why are you so agitated? What does make this event so special?'

'Silly Mary. Mr. Fowler will be there. He is coming especially for you! And you are not even ready. Do not you realise that you are expected to look your best?'

Mary sighed. 'Alright, alright, I will take the green one.'

'Oh, no, not that plain thing.'

'Plain? You said it looked nice?'

'For a spring walk across the marshes it does,' Georgiana said dryly as she started rummaging through all the gowns. 'Now…let's see…'

She threw a white dress in Mary's direction and the girl barely had the time to catch it.

'Try that one…and this one…and this…' Georgiana continued.

'Enough!' Mary exclaimed when her hands were almost full.

'Now kindly go before I go insane.'

'You do realise you shall be late,' Georgiana said seriously.

'Then you go without me, I am coming later.'

'Later or never?'

Mary pushed her through the secret door and threw the gowns on the bed.

'Right…'

She closed her eyes and pointed randomly at one of the dresses.

'Hm…this one.'

She opened her eyes slowly and discovered she had picked a dark blue one. It was a gift from her father and it was quite pretty.

'It will do.'

Without any sort of elegance she discarded her grey dress and slipped into the blue gown, taking out the ribbon from her hair and ruffling the straight locks.

'No corset…true freedom,' she sang to herself.

She went to her large mirror in the south corner of her room where a dressing table laden with books barely stood on its legs.

'Right. Ready.'

Her hair stuck out from all different corners, thus she combed it rapidly and tied her ribbon around her waist. The black waterfall of her strands fell flat and lovely on her stiff back as she picked the pearl necklace and without thinking much, placed it round her white long neck.

'I don't believe more than ten minutes passed…' she said to herself pleased.

If one of her sisters or worse, Mrs. Bennet had been there, she would have been strongly chided for such ignorance in dress, but as she was alone, tasting a strange sort of freedom she could not care less.

'And what if he does not come?' she asked herself worried.

_Well, if he does not, all the better. You will know then he was just being kind. I'd rather not dance in any case._

She straightened her dress and made to go to the door but stopped.

'I'm not ready yet.'

She heard Georgiana exit her chambers in a rush and suppressed an amused smile.

* * *

'Can it be possible to have a more charming Ball room?' Charles asked as he strolled through the already half crowded room with Mr. Darcy.

'It is quite magnificent…truly a wonder.'

'You have seen it so many times already…' Fitzwilliam replied bored.

The immense chamber was lit by five golden chandeliers which sang a soft tune of forgotten times as the small diamonds clinked together in the breeze which was coming from the tall, stained-glass, open windows.

The marble floor seemed cracked but it was actually adorned with large flying birds of strange models that dazzled all guests as they seemed to come to life at the sound of the gentle music coming from the orchestra.

Servants strolled discreetly among the crowd, holding cups of champagne and old matrons and countesses chatted away on the stylish ottomans placed in different corners of the room. Beautiful red-cushioned tall chairs and stools were arranged neatly in even lines across the room to let the couples dance and there even was a smoking room with card tables.

Everything seemed to glow as the Darcy portraits on the walls looked on at the party with approval, making Lizzie feel slightly more comfortable, though she was a packet of nerves, skipping through the halls like a scared deer.

It was not extravagant, not too full, not too empty. It seemed just as it should be; poised and refined.

'Now, I suggest you stop moving about and join your husband to relieve him of this tedious task of welcoming all sorts of people who will not shut up,' Mr. Darcy told her grasping her hand firmly when she passed by.

'And I thought this was your favourite part,' she said laughing happily.

'Barely…'

'Lizzie, the place looks gorgeous!' Jane exclaimed as she joined her. They both walked through the room admiring the results of hard work.

'You look splendid Jane,' she said smiling slyly at her belly.

'Charles thinks I'm even more "ravishing" with child.'

'All men take a liking to it, but they'd rather not bear it,' she said amused.

'Ah, you haven't changed a bit.'

A very spick and span butler suddenly announced the arrival of Lady Catherine which produced such an effect that Lizzie lost all her good disposition. Even more joyful, Caroline joined Elizabeth to welcome the lady properly, but neither did a very good job as she seemed bent on being displeased.

'Lady Catherine, but where is beautiful Anna?' Caroline purred flatteringly.

'I'm afraid she has come down with a dreadful cold,' she replied coldly, not seeming much affected by it. Everyone knew that she barely let her daughter go out.

'Such a misfortune indeed,' Lizzie admitted.

'Was that mockery in your tone, Miss Bennet?' Lady Catherine immediately remarked.

'It's Mrs. Darcy actually…and on the contrary, I am very sad to hear it, for I really wished to know more of Anna,' she replied slightly annoyed.

'Ah, I always forget you married my nephew, Miss Bennet, do forgive me,' she said stiffly.

Lizzie sighed and led her to a comfortable chair, begging Caroline would not follow. Her prayers were heard as Caroline rushed immediately to aid Georgiana Darcy who had just arrived in the Ball Room.

'Why, Miss Darcy, lovely dress,' she said slowly. 'But I would have rather put a shawl over my shoulders. It gets a bit too cold at times.'

Miss Darcy frowned and pretending to look for her brother left her to mingle with the oncoming crowd. The room was filling up quickly and she was starting to get worried she would not find Mary when she came.

Mr. Prowler had arrived early and was already talking to Charles in a secluded corner, both smiling complacently and looking around the room from time to time.

'Are you expecting Miss Bennet then?'

'Pardon?' he asked.

'You did win all her dances after that chess game,' he remarked amused.

'Indeed, I have, though I am not so sure whether I have such a keen partner after all.'

The air was becoming quite stale and the atmosphere was tense as the heat and smell of perfume took over the room.

The only hope came from the open windows which were still considered quite a courageous act since Lizzie had come up with this idea when she noticed that the Ball at the Bingley's had been too tiresome because of lack of fresh air. She hoped no one would comment too much since it was not a very usual thing to have open windows during Balls.

Strangely enough, what had been a soft breeze had now turned into a mild form of wind which was rewarding guests with quite enough coolness.

Lydia and Kitty both entered the Ball room in an odd pace as if already dancing a storming waltz, but both had time to exclaim at the beauty of the room.

They stood a while at their mother's side who had yet again tried to make conversation with Lady Catherine. Mr. Bennet was already engaged in a domino game with Mr. Darcy who had given up trying to seem presentable.

'Oh, look at him, as if tonight is his last night on Earth,' Mrs. Bennet said stiffly.

'Of whom do you speak?' Kitty asked innocently.

'Of your father certainly, though Mr. Darcy is not far behind. He should take Lizzie for a reel at least…'

Lydia looked around the room curiously and found quite half a dozen specimens who could have been worthy of a dance, thus she took Kitty by the hand and strode towards some gentleman nearby who were engaged in a discussion of politics.

Kitty was a bit relieved the Colonel had not arrived yet, for she did not feel ready to face him, but wondered where Mary could have been.

* * *

The clock struck a quarter past nine as Mary climbed down the stairs to reach the Ball Room.

'Curses…' she muttered as she fumbled with her dress.

'Miss Bennet?'

She turned abruptly, looking towards the entrance hall.

'Colonel Fitzwilliam!' she called merrily. 'I am very glad you could join us.'

'Likewise, Miss Bennet,' he replied as he took off his hat and bowed.

He was as handsome as ever, his cuffs looking like polished silver, his boots shining flawlessly in the soft light of the corridor as his slow steps made his locks curl softly around his neck.

His smile, however, did not reach his eyes. Instead they meant to say "Tonight or never" and Mary hoped Kitty would not keep her promise to Mr. Prowler.

'Catherine has told me she wants to test your lightness of foot, for she has not danced with you yet,' Mary added smiling shyly, but this little act did not fool the Colonel.

'We shall see…now, let us not make them wait,' he replied as he took her hand and headed for the Ball Room.

They both stepped in casually without being too much noticed and they both ogled at the magnificence of the room, comparing impressions.

'Five chandeliers are a bit too much though, don't you think?' he asked politely.

'I agree, but there is never enough light for such Balls.'

Kitty Bennet did not have to look long for she immediately noticed her sister at the side of her suitor. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she almost felt jealous. Nevertheless, she looked away pretending she had not seen them.

'Miss Catherine looks marvellous,' he added shyly as he followed her with his eyes across the room.

'She was always a sweet beauty, but do ask her to dance Sir, she is looking forward to it,' she replied smiling.

As they departed she wished him luck though he did not hear her.

Barely had she made a few steps when Kitty accosted her.

'What was…' she started but stopped short.

'Lord, what on Heaven is this?' she asked as she noticed the necklace.

'Oh…it's a Christmas gift…' she stuttered reddening.

'From who, may I ask?'

She was luckily saved by the arrival of her gentle friend.

'There you are! I've been looking for you.'

'Georgiana…thank Goodness…' she muttered.

'Miss Darcy you look splendid,' Kitty added politely.

The two of them bowed at each other politely, but exchanged no other words.

At length Kitty turned towards Mary.

'I was just admiring this gorgeous necklace, isn't it beautiful?' she told Georgiana.

'Oh, I should know, I gave it to my dear Mary,' she said smiling slyly.

Kitty's grin fell as disappointment overtook her.

'Oh, really? Well, odd gift indeed,' she said weakly.

After more idle talk Kitty left them to join her sister and Mary hugged her gratefully.

'What would I do without you?'

'I could think of many biting ways of replying, but I'll contain myself tonight.'

'Oh, then it shall be dull indeed,' Mary said smirking.

The two friends strolled across the room happily, but were soon interrupted when a young man, stranger to both, asked Georgiana to dance. The girl seemed rather reluctant, but joined him nevertheless.

Mary watched her from afar as she joined the other couples in the middle of the room and saw how uncomfortable she felt, almost sad and she wondered why such a reaction would overcome her.

Meanwhile, Kitty had somehow managed to avoid the Colonel by standing very close to the window curtains from which point she could barely be seen. However, she was discovered too soon.

'Hiding from me are you, Miss Catherine?' James asked good-humouredly as he kissed her hand.

She blushed self-consciously. 'Oh, of course not Sir, I simply needed to rest for a while. Well, how handsome you look!' she exclaimed truthfully for he was no less ravishing than the Colonel.

'And I must say the same about you, though your loveliness fairly exceeds mine, Miss Catherine, in all ways possible.'

She looked at him and suddenly tried to imagine him writing at his desk, in his gloomy office in London, fighting in court with the beggars, spitting tobacco on the dusty floor and whipping his mighty stallions.

The thought made her shudder, but it scared her more to think that she could be his companion in all this. She smiled unsure.

'Now, you and I had an understanding, Miss Catherine. And I seek to be rewarded for that fairly won game.'

With that he lifted his hand.

Her eyes travelled across the room and she noticed the Colonel was just some feet away from her. Not having noticed James and seeing as Catherine smiled shyly, he plucked up the courage to come closer, but he inevitably walked into a dreadful situation.

It was too late to back down now and the Colonel bowed politely to the both of them.

'Mr. Prowler, Miss Catherine.'

'Colonel Fitzwilliam, very pleasant to see you,' she answered in a dead voice which he interpreted as coldness.

James felt a bit embarrassed, but without waiting for Kitty's reply, took hold of her free hand.

The Colonel did not notice this small gesture and with all the boldness of his age he bowed again and muttered something inaudible to her, which made Kitty blush furiously.

'Oh, Sir, I'm afraid Mr. Prowler…' she started discomfit.

'Has engaged her dances,' James continued slowly, though having no intention to belittle the Colonel. He was confused and did not feel comfortable, but wanted to enjoy the lady's company.

The Colonel suddenly noticed their intertwined hands and a cold blade almost cut through him as he stepped back embarrassed.

'Oh, I did not realise…I am profusely apologetic.'

'It is of no matter…' Kitty replied weakly.

The music started and both knew she would have to join the couples with James.

'Well then…' Mr. Prowler started and Catherine quickly squeezed his hand, guiding him through the crowd, far away from the Colonel, who stood transfixed behind them.

She moved with such a rush that they were the first couple to start dancing and she felt so stirred and unquiet that she barely realised it was a slow one.

They moved languidly through the chairs and other couples, but Catherine looked either at her feet or at the ceiling, feeling slightly dizzy and not wanting to face James or the Colonel.

'Miss Catherine…are you feeling alright?' James ventured to ask her.

She suddenly looked at him with fear. 'Oh, perfectly well.'

She could not help looking through the room and she saw with horror that the Colonel was walking towards them through the crowd. His stare was blank and he held an object in his hand.

Lydia, who was nearby and dancing with a fairly older man noticed her agitation and glared at her as if telling her it was not proper to show such emotions whilst dancing.

The room was spinning so fast around her that she saw all faces distorted.

She heard her mother's queer loud laugh, she heard Caroline complain no one dared ask her to dance, she heard Charles gulp down his wine, she even heard the Colonel's even breaths.

He looked defeated. And for the first time, he was not about to get up again.

His loss had sunk in and it mattered no more.

She saw him pass them as she turned in James' arms and the light suddenly seemed to grow dimmer.

Indeed, it was not just an illusion, the wind outside had intensified and had almost blown away some of the candles.

It seemed a great rain would fall after weeks without a drop.

Yet, it mattered not to her. It mattered not that she had suddenly stopped in the middle of the dancing couples, with James calling her gently.

It mattered not that Lydia bellowed at her to move out of her way. It mattered not that Jane called out to her husband. It mattered not that Georgiana was slapping the hands of an insolent partner off her waist.

Nothing made any sense and she foresaw how the entire room would sink in an ocean of rain, she foresaw all would drown and float gently across the room.

Perhaps only then she could stop him, but he had already placed her handkerchief on the small coffee table near the exit and with a last pained look left the room.

When she no longer heard his breath, when his feet left the floor she realised no other sounds were audible anymore. She looked at James, at Lydia, at Lady Catherine who seemed to say something in a loud voice to Mrs. Bennet.

She could not hear them. Yet she could still hear his departure.

_Click. Clack. Click. Clack._

'Kitty? Kitty? Wake up, for Heaven's Sake!' Lydia shook her slowly.

'Lydia?' she asked dreamily.

'You're holding everyone, keep dancing. Why on Earth did you stop?'

Lydia held her by the arms and looked at her reproachfully, but a small smile appeared on Kitty's lips.

'No.'

'What?'

'I do not want to dance.'

'Miss Catherine, would you like to stop dancing?' James asked.

She turned to him.

'I do not wish to stop,' she said smiling sweetly. 'But I do not wish to dance with you.'

With that she brushed him off and slowly made her way through the crowd.

'Kitty!' Lydia called after her.

As people let her pass her speed increased.

'Kitty, where are you going?' Mrs. Bennet and Jane asked in unison.

Ladies and gentlemen broke up their groups and let her rush by.

She broke into a run as a grin appeared on her face.

Her wild hair shook on her shoulders as her small feet ran as fast as possible.

She pulled the doors with an inexplicable strength and exited the Ball Room, not forgetting however to snatch the handkerchief abandoned on the table.

The Hall looked deserted and coldness seeped into her bones but she had never felt more alive. Not even stopping to consider the weather she rushed with all her might towards the entrance and burst through the tall dark doors out into the already dark night.

It was raining cats and dogs. You could not see two steps in front of you and drops fell sharp and cold on the ground, making her tremble.

Nature was exacting her revenge as trees shook with might from the devastating wind and…she was wearing but a thin Ball gown.

Kitty quickly stepped down the stairs and almost tripped as she reached the stone-alley. It was muddy and full of dirt, yet it seemed more enchanting than ever.

She looked out on the grounds for his carriage and noticed with horror it had already departed.

'Ah!'

Without waiting she started running, trying desperately to reach the gates which had not been closed yet.

In just a few moments she was drenched to the bones, but she cared not.

However, after a few wretched miles, she realised her slippery shoes would not do.

'Damn this stupid attire!'

Taking out her shoes she placed them under a tall oak.

'Now stay here,' she told them not minding how mad she was.

Kitty had always loved to run bare-feet but now it was a matter of life and death.

She pulled her folds until half her calves could be seen and she broke into a run she would remember all her life.

Mud splashed her skin and pretty face, rain washed it thoroughly and dogs howled angrily as she passed without fear.

She almost fell twice but always got up and continued her run which was already exhausting her.

She reached the gates in time and without hearing the game-keeper's shouts skipped further on, following the small carriage which was driving slowly through the meadows.

There was almost no light, but her feet seemed to know exactly where to go as she stepped over puddles and thorns.

It mattered not that she had bruises all over her legs, she felt truly happy, yet afraid at the same time, afraid she would not reach him in time.

She was, however, gaining on them as Kitty Bennet was not a runner to be trifled with. Panting and spitting rain water she called after him.

'Sir, stop the carriage! Mr. Fitzwilliam!'

It was in vain, though.

_There is only one way…_she thought.

She jumped and ran carelessly, approaching them with an unbelievable might.

The couch man noticed her suddenly and baffled, thought it was a ragged beggar who wanted money or food.

'Be gone with ya!' he yelled.

'Please, Sir, stop the carriage!' she screamed.

He almost tried whipping her, but she ducked and using all her strength halted for the hems of the horses, jumping in front of the carriage.

'Fitzwilliam! Stop!' she yelled at the top of her longs.

Suddenly the vehicle stopped.

'But, Sir…it's only a scoundrel of a…' the couch man protested as he heard his master's orders. 'Very well then…'

Kitty stood frightened and freezing to death in front of the horses, as the Colonel got out of the Carriage slowly.

'M-Miss Bennet?' he asked weakly not believing his eyes.

He walked towards her unsure until he was in front of her. Mud and water covered her body, yet she still looked lovely.

'Miss Bennet, what on Earth…' he started again, as the rain soaked him to the flesh.

It kept pouring and he made a signal to the driver to pull up the carriage. The old man scowled deeply but moved the vehicle as ordered.

Darkness surrounded him and now that she had succeeded, Kitty knew not how to continue.

'Sir…I…I couldn't let you leave like that.'

He looked at her sadly. 'Miss Bennet, it's winter time and you are barely dressed, standing in the rain…' he started.

'I do not care. I had to see you. I…I had to tell you.'

'Tell me what?' he asked leaving his worries aside.

'I do not want to dance with Mr. Prowler.'

'And that is what you came out to tell me?' he asked at length.

'Yes. I do not like him. In fact I hardly bear him. I do not want to walk with him. I… I want…'

He waited.

'I want to walk with you,' she said in one breath.

'Well…I don't think now is the time…' he added embarrassed.

'I want to dance with you. I want to…I want to stay with you.'

He looked at her baffled.

'Miss Catherine…' he ventured, 'that is not possible now…you…I gave up...'

'Gave up on what?'

'It was obvious I was unwanted company,' he said coldly.

'Silly man! I…'

He looked away.

'I am a foolish tart with nothing but schemes in my head!' she yelled.

The Colonel turned abruptly.

'Do not be so hard on yourself…'

'Oh come now, you know it's true! I am the most selfish being I have ever met! The most tedious and insufferable, childish and spoilt!'

'Why…why are you telling me this?'

'Because you are the only one who can stand this obnoxious girl…' she said weakly.

'That is not true, Miss Catherine…'

'Fine, then! You are the only one this wicked girl loves then.'

He stood transfixed for a moment, his eyes widening with shock.

Such a dead silence engulfed them that for a moment both thought it was a dream.

'I, I beg your pardon?' he asked at length his voice shaking.

She rolled her eyes.

'You make me repeat so! I said I love you, silly man.'

Lightning lit the skies as his face lit with a sudden joy he could not control.

Kitty however did not notice and believed he was mocking her.

'Now you hate me, don't you? Now you'll laugh at me…'

'Miss Catherine…I do not harbour such feelings…'

'You don't care anymore. I've lost you, haven't I? I'm too late!' she said almost crying.

'Believe me I…'

'Do not be polite, Sir. I deserve this, don't I?'

'Do you…do you really…'

'I admit. I love you, how many times must I say it?' she asked, a sob escaping her throat.

'Then…' he paused and approached her, 'you should know I have never stopped loving you…and never will.'

The statement stopped Kitty from all possible movement and she stared at him, tears in her eyes.

'I truly do…and always have…' he said raising his hand to hers.

Her trembling lips broke into a smile of relief.

'Please do not…' he started but he had no time to continue, for Kitty Bennet jumped in his arms and kissed him softly on the lips.

He wrapped his arms around her strongly and intensified the small kiss, lifting her up from the ground.

They both swirled in the heavy rain as it turned slowly into snow.

The clock stroke twelve times. It was midnight.

* * *

Mary walked across the room worried, holding her glass of champagne. It was now an hour past midnight, yet no sign of Kitty.

She looked out into the snowy darkness and felt frightened and cold.

'Where is she? What has happened?' she mumbled to herself.

The dances continued as everyone laughed and drank champagne, bellowing Happy New Year in each direction.

Her mother and father were dancing which was quite a sight, seeing as they had not done so for a long time. It made her happy to see how merrily they glided on the floor, but she could not feel at rest knowing for sure Kitty had gone in search for the Colonel.

She had tried not to think of Mr. Fowler throughout the night, but now that it was past midnight she kept wondering where he was.

'Miss Bennet?' someone addressed her tapping her shoulder.

She turned and noticed a worried looking James.

'Have you seen Miss Catherine?'

'No, I have not. Have you?'

'Ever since she disappeared…' he continued, but stopped when he noticed her necklace.

'Well…what an interesting piece of jewellery you have there, Miss Bennet…'

She looked down embarrassed.

'If my eyes do not deceive me, I have seen such an article before…I must assume one of your _many_ suitors has been kind enough to make you look presentable tonight…'

'And it is not necessary for you to remark that, Prowler,' a deep rough voice spoke up from behind her.

She turned and saw Mr. Fowler, wearing an upset, defiant look in his eyes as he stared at James. She knew not where he had come from, but she was glad he had finally arrived.

'Mr. Fowler, how pleasant to see you…I suppose you come here to escort Miss Bennet.'

'That is correct, Mr. Prowler, I plan on enjoying myself with my lovely companion as best as possible.'

'Ah, the Bennet women…a curse indeed, let it not be a deadly one,' he remarked acridly.

'It is not a bad alternative in any case,' he replied stiffly.

'It is not a pleasant end, however. You will find Miss Bennet particularly fearsome on this occasion.'

'Quite one of the reasons for my liking,' he shot back clearly displeased.

'She should then feel very lucky indeed with such admirer, after all, this does not happen every day, does it, Miss Bennet?'

'And what of Miss Catherine? Is she not to be found, Mr. Prowler?' Mr. Fowler intoned mockingly.

'I was searching for her at the moment.'

'Perhaps she has taken to better company.'

'Better than yours I am sure there is none,' he said flatly.

Mary stood between them confused and embarrassed loathing both for putting her in such a situation.

Suddenly, the Ball room doors opened widely and in came the Colonel holding Catherine by the hand.

She was wearing a different dress, her wet locks playing mirthfully in the air and he looked perfect in one of Darcy's impeccable suits.

Lizzie and Mr. Darcy smiled slyly as they followed the couple into the room again.

Everyone stopped dancing and a deep silence engulfed the room.

Mary's heart stopped as she couldn't believe her eyes.

Kitty's giggle erupted childishly as she noticed everyone was shocked.

With a quick movement she pecked the Colonel as he kissed her hand and they both joined the couples.

The music started and they both started dancing as if there was no one in the room.

Mrs. Bennet had almost fainted in her chair, but Mr. Bennet was laughing happily trying to hold his wife as Lydia stood by their side shocked and indisposed.

All the acquaintances and relatives watching them felt surprised and happy to see them reunited and some even nodded approvingly as if they knew all along.

Yet no one was as glad as Mary. She could barely hide her grin as she watched them turn happily.

'Finally…' she breathed relieved.

'See, Mr. Prowler, how I was right in my…' she turned towards James but he had already left.

She did not see him again for the rest of the night.

'Shall we, Miss Bennet?' Mr. Fowler said taking hold of her hand.

The two of them followed Kitty and the Colonel but danced rather stiffly and very ceremoniously as he was still telling her what steps to make.

'You're doing fine,' he would tell her from time to time.

'What more can I do?' she said amused as they surrounded a pair.

'You could only look at me.'

She raised a brow confused.

'If your eyes follow only mine you shall not get lost,' he told her softly.

'Should I trust you on that?'

He pulled her closer. 'In dancing, one trusts the other partner completely.'

'Then we should not dance so much.'

'On the contrary, we should dance for an eternity…but I know you shall not come any closer.'

She turned and smiled amused. 'In that you are perfectly right.'

Some minutes passed in silence. The dance was almost over, but they still moved slowly between couples.

'It does look lovely around your neck,' he said at length, 'you should never take it off.'

'And why not?' she asked smiling.

'You would be naked without it.'


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Take my Coat

The dancing and feasting lasted until sunrise and all were merry and cheerful, but none like Kitty and the Colonel. They never for one minute parted from each other, as if afraid that they would be separated for ever.

They did not talk to those around them afraid they might be swayed or asked too many questions.

Lydia refused to address Catherine any word of congratulation, as she was mostly fuming with envy rather than dismay.

Kitty had embraced Mary, Lizzie and Jane with such love that Mrs. Bennet almost started crying. She was trying as best as she could to show the Colonel all her kindness and gratitude.

Mr. Fowler left early and bid Mary leave the party too to accompany him to the doors.

'When must you leave for Netherfield?' he asked as he put his cloak on.

'I believe in three or four days…' she replied weakly.

'I see…and when shall you be back?'

'That I do not know. Perhaps in the spring.'

He frowned. 'That is far too long a time to be gone. I shall hear none of that. Either you come earlier or I shall come to visit you at Longbourn myself.'

Mary was a bit surprised but smiled complacent.

'Oh, Sir, you need not…'

'Why ever not? I wish to see you, nothing in the world can possibly stand in my way,' he spoke gravely as if to an invisible opponent who dared challenge him.

'Why do you wish to see me?'

They both walked down to his carriage and he smiled mirthfully to her as he put his top-hat on.

'For the same reason you wish to see me.'

With that he bowed and kissed her on the forehead, leaving promptly.

As his carriage drove away her eyes saddened and for a moment she stopped in her step.

_This may be the last time you see him…._

She shook off that thought however, for she needed to show her joy. Her sister had finally found happiness.

She walked back into the Ball Room and congratulated the Colonel on his success, wishing him all the merriment in the world.

'It was her success, Miss Bennet. She saw happiness running away from her and she stooped to catch it. However, she caught me in those nets as well and now I am sure…'

'That you will be happy?' Mary said smiling gently.

He smiled back and kissed her hand politely. 'I owe you much as well, Miss Bennet.'

'Nonsense! Now, once I see you two married I shall be truly pleased.'

The Colonel slept at Pemberley that night and all the nights until their departure, not wanting to leave Catherine alone. However, the following day he had a serious discussion with Mr. Bennet regarding the engagement, for no matter how much he truly cherished her, he had to confront the parents first.

Mr. Bennet consented happily, though he called the Colonel in the library, opened a bottle of brandy and bade him tell all that had happened the previous night, for he still could not believe his daughter had been so skilled and willed.

Meanwhile, Catherine was restless and in such high spirits that she could barely stand still. She fidgeted and bit her lips worried wherever she found herself and when asked what her cause of distress was she simply replied she was so happy that she believed it was all a dream.

The following days she spent hours in the drawing room with her mother, talking about the engagement and wedding, which should be of course a grand festivity, worthy of even the Darcys' presence.

Lydia was very moody and sulky, eating double her portion and sewing in her room until nightfall, not wanting to talk to Catherine too much. From time to time she scolded her for having taken such a man as a lover and not someone more worthy, but Catherine only looked down embarrassed and heard nothing.

In such times, Kitty talked a great deal with Mary and Georgiana as well who was ever present. Yet, no matter how cheerful she tried to be, Mary could not hide her disappointment. She knew not when she would see him again, but it seemed a long, long time. Georgiana was very sympathetic and tried to bear Kitty as best as possible, but she could not help noticing her friend's bad mood.

The three days passed and the Colonel left immediately to arrange his affairs at home, after which he would travel to Netherfield, to expect Catherine there and prepare the wedding. Kitty shed no tears when he left, as saddened as she was, for she knew these things had to be sorted out and soon there would be a time when she would be able to see as much of him as possible. Her mother had warned her marriage was not to be trifled with and that there _will_ be misunderstandings from time to time, even quarrels, but love shall always prevail.

Catherine replied to all this as she usually did.

'Mama, if he could stand me these past months, he shall an entire life-time.'

Kitty's maturity and growth almost scared Mr. Bennet, for he had never noticed how much a woman changes when love occupies her mind. It is not just the fanciful feeling, it is also the responsibility that comes with…creating a home, bearing children, being a good mother and she felt ready.

Mary's pain was alleviated by this and she mused with pleasure how fine a woman Catherine would come to be. She saw it in her sister's eyes, the look of a woman ready for life. A look, however she could not understand. Mary could never picture herself married, a mother or even loved, though now it was safe to say she was hoping Mr. Fowler would be the one to understand her. These fears she would not let go, helped her see things from a more objective perspective, detached her from feelings, but she worried she would not be able to do that for too long a time.

Already, her heart ached and as silly as it sounded she knew no cure. She spent most nights talking to Georgiana, fretting that if she were alone she would start thinking too much.

Alas, the time to depart came one rather sunny morning. Snow had fallen precariously here and there, but it was not exactly pleasant to have a walk.

It was slowly melting as in that part of England, winters were usually warm.

No green grass to soothe her smiled at her window and as she looked at her luggage Mary wished she would not go home, but to a different land in a different time.

When she arrived in the dining room for breakfast she found no one there. This was most odd since at least her father, who now could come down once in a while, would be there.

'Where is everyone?'

'Mary?!'

She turned and saw Georgiana climbing down the stairs rapidly, fright and worry spread on her face.

'Georgiana, what is the commotion about?'

'Oh, Mary, it's terrible! Jane! Jane is feeling very ill and the baby… Oh, it's horrid! The physician must come soon.'

Mary stopped breathing for a moment.

_Jane?..._

'Georgiana, what has happened?' she said taking her by the hands.

'It seems the stress and the Ball…ah, the child might be in danger!'

'Calm down, please, calm down…it will be alright,' Mary said as she led her towards the main chambers where they could find her sister.

'Is Jane safe? Is she in a bad state?'

'I don't know, they won't let me in! Perhaps they might let you since you are her sister.'

'I'll try…' Mary said as she tried to control her shaking voice.

In front of Jane and Charles' chamber stood a butler looking gravely at the approaching figures.

'Please, Sir, I am Mrs. Bingley's sister, Mary Bennet, I need to see her most urgently.'

'Very well then…' he shrugged and let her pass.

Inside she found Mrs. Bennet, Charles and Lizzie all looking like ghosts, as most of them had tears in their eyes, watching a sleeping, white as death Jane.

She lay on the bed like a fragile white rose and Mary could not help feeling entirely hopeless as she saw dark circles under her eyes and blood on her lips.

_Why cannot happiness last?_

Mary sat down next to her bed and asked Lizzie silently where Mr. Darcy was.

'He has gone for the physician…'she replied ghastly.

Kitty arrived promptly as worried and distressed as the others, but she fumbled and despaired so much that she was taken out of the room.

Mary sat silently in a chair waiting for the physician.

However, when the tall, acrid looking, blunt old man came all were made to leave and wait outside as he would deal with her properly. He had brought forth a midwife, fearing the worst, though he showed no reaction.

Lizzie and Charles were both holding each other crying softly as Mr. Darcy paced the hall worriedly. No one dared speak and only Kitty's loud cries were heard from time to time.

'Why can't she have happiness like me?' she moaned. 'This wretchedness…in this happy hour…'

Caroline had come lazily from her bed, for the Ball had upset her and she was quite taken aback at the news, however she tried as best as she could to soothe Mr. Darcy as she walked by him assuring him it will come out alright.

Mary comforted Kitty as best as she could as she noticed Georgiana speaking quietly with her brother in a corner. They exchanged few words and she was as blunt as possible, him as saddened as ever.

'What was it that you talked to him?' Mary asked her when she returned.

'I told him, if you wish to know, that you and your family must stay a bit longer no matter what happens, for it is too serious a case to be taken as lightly as this.'

'I suppose you are right…' she mumbled not knowing what to say. No matter how anguished she was, a very small ray of happiness managed to penetrate her soul, as the prospect of staying longer was not entirely a displeasing one. However, the ray extinguished rapidly when thoughts of Jane overwhelmed her.

Lydia, who had come much later to see Jane was more affected that anyone else since she saw herself in her sister's position and if there was something she dreaded more than solitude it was death, for death was eternal solitude.

She spoke to no one and stood aside, comforted only by her mother from time to time. She crossed her fingers and embraced her stomach frightened as Mrs. Bennet patted her weakly on her hair.

Noon came, but no one had any appetite, they stood helplessly in the drawing room, occupying themselves with trifles only.

Mr. Bennet had started playing chess with himself and he always managed to lose, throwing the pieces on the floor.

Charles could not stand still and he moved from window to fireplace, from fireplace to door, not knowing what to do, how to act and more importantly not being able to choose for whom he worried more, Jane or the child.

At last the physician exited Jane's chamber, wearing an exhausted and angry look.

'Oh, Sir how is she? Good Lord! Tell us, is she alright?' Mrs. Bennet exclaimed at once.

'She is perfectly well.'

'And the baby?' Lizzie asked.

'The child is fine and healthy, strong lad or lass I should say, however…she was very lucky to be out of danger. Now, who the Devil gave her alcohol to drink?'

All looked at each other baffled.

'Alcohol? Surely I was with Jane all the time, she never drank but water!' Charles said scandalized. 'I take care of her as…'

'Save your breath, Mr. Bingley, I was not accusing you. I simply wish to know. If not alcohol then some substance very much like it... It's obvious she must have drunk such a thing, for only this could have caused her attack, only those typical substances produce it.'

'Sir, perhaps by mistake she drank from where she should have not…' Lizzie ventured.

'Be that as it may, you must take care of her day and night. She will come to senses and be in strength in a week or so, but no more pestilences as these. She needs rest and attendance, nothing else for I gave her all the medicine needed.'

'Thank you very much, Mr. Kinsley for your valuable assistance, we look forward to her getting well,' Mr. Darcy spoke as they both exited the room to discuss the issue of payment.

'My poor child, poisoned!' Mrs. Bennet almost yelled. 'Did you hear, Lizzie? This was a plot, I tell you!'

'Mama, please be patient, let us rejoice that Jane is out of danger…we shall find and end to this,' Lizzie said as she comforted her with the aid of her father.

'Woman, do not think of such foolishness now. The danger has passed...' he mumbled though he was deep in thought as well as to how this could have happened.

Mary looked around the room even sadder than before as she beheld an ocean of frightened people. And then she noticed something.

'Where is Mr. Prowler?'

'Oh, James…' Charles spoke gravely, 'he has been in town these past days, out hunting as well. Poor fellow probably knows nothing of this.'

'Why did he leave so?' Kitty asked surprised.

Charles raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he went to see his wife.

Mary frowned doubtful.

_He might have left in anger that Catherine is now engaged…but as soon as he left, Jane got ill. I can't help thinking there is something odd about this. _

'Mary, come, let us see Jane,' Georgiana intoned taking her by the arm.

* * *

The days passed drearily yet fairly comfortable and not so unpleasant for the Bennets as Jane was making a fast recovery and Kitty and Charles had recovered their spirits.

They had not informed their neighbours or anyone else of the happening, thus Mary considered that Mr. Fowler knew nothing of it.

Four days came to an end one by one, but on the fifth day Jane managed to rise and walk around the room. Everyone felt so relieved that they might have given another ball in celebration of it.

Mary now sagged in her room, lonely and forlorn as she looked out at the cold, empty lands.

_I wish we left sooner…this way I would think too much about…_

Georgiana knocked at the secret door and entered unwelcome, noticing the sulky figure at the window.

'Everyone is up and about and here you are, like a pained widow. Leave that to Lydia.'

She smiled and took Mary's hands, looking deeply into her eyes.

'Sweet child, what is the matter?' she said in a sing-song voice.

'Nothing, I simply do not like departures…'

'It's been long since Mr. Fowler was here. He probably knows nothing of what happened…' Georgiana added.

Mary grimaced. 'Perhaps.'

'So then, someone should inform him immediately, in order for him to call and pay his dues.'

Mary looked at her surprised.

'The carriage is unfortunately taken since the physician must come again soon, but someone should venture out on a walk to go and let him know…'she said grinning.

Mary scowled. 'Georgiana, just what are you suggesting?'

'I thought I had made it plain by now,' she replied clicking her tongue.

'Come, get dressed, will you?'

'To go where?'

'You shall visit Mr. Fowler and inform him of what came to pass.'

'But that is insane! Who would do that? It's a long distance…it's not proper for me to go and see him.'

'But you'd do that Mary Bennet, you cherish him, don't you?'

'Of course not…not in that way…I care about him as a gentle friend, there is no…' she trailed off.

'Now you are running away again, scared and alone. Ah, I shall really give you a piece of my mind, but that can wait, now it's time to get dressed.'

Georgiana took out the green dress and threw it on the bed.

'Come now, and take your cloak with you.'

Mary at first did not listen, until Georgiana tried to put her dress over her head.

'Alright, alright,' she muttered as if she was doing her a service.

As she slowly put the dress on, she realised her heart was beating fast and that a sudden jolt of happiness had overtaken her.

_I will see him…_

Out of the blue she started putting her clothes on with a speed that surprised Georgiana herself.

She wrapped her cloak around her tightly and taking her bonnet rushed to depart.

'Good luck,' Georgiana said embracing her as she left.

No one noticed her take flight as she stepped out into the desolate grounds, facing the biting, chilly air.

However, it was not dark or snowing, it was suitably warm for her garments and with a steady step she started her journey.

It was now getting rather cloudy as she was nearing Huntington Park and she felt a few chills run down her spine. However, an honest smile was plastered on her face, her eyes sparkled with delight and she skipped ferns and puddles, holding her hems up.

All was cold and forlorn about her, but in front of her she could see the open gates and all sorrow vanished.

The house looked so proud and majestic, that she feared she would be turned out at the entrance as the Gothic windows grinned at her sinisterly, but inside awaited only happiness.

She rushed along the stony alley and promptly arrived at the tall doors, through which she entered quietly. No servant was there to welcome her and she had entered so slyly that she considered no one could have heard her indeed.

Mr. Fowler had shown her the entire house and she knew most chambers as she suspected that at this time he might be in his private rooms. She thought with embarrassment that she should not dare enter there, but she had to, for she wanted to surprise him.

As she stepped across the large hall she noticed a small satin bag of a colour she could not distinguish in the dim light. It was abandoned on a coffee table and she took it playfully in her arms, heading for the upper chambers.

She climbed the stairs slowly, her heart almost exploding in her chest.

_Mary Bennet, you are insane…_she told herself assured.

The corridors were as dark and dull as usual but a light in her heart guided her towards his rooms.

She fidgeted with the satin bag, trying to open it, but that was merely a pretext for her nerves.

She saw his room at the end of the corridor and she started walking very fast as not to get cold feet.

With a strong push she opened the doors slowly and stepped inside. She found herself in a crimson office, with green leather chairs and a black oak desk. No window was to be found on the walls and she noticed an opening in the wall that led to a different room.

Bracing herself she stepped slowly towards it and peered inside.

The satin bag dropped coldly on the floor as tobacco spread from it on the floor.

'Who the Dev…' Mr. Fowler spoke.

Anne de Bourg sat up on the bed, her hair tangled between his fingers, as only white sheets covered her slender, white serpent-like body. She supported her entire weight on him, as her hands rested on his broad, smooth chest. He held her waist as her legs came out of the white mass and encircled his.

'Is that Mary Bennet?' she intoned playfully. 'Oh, you dropped my snuff…'

Mary stood paralysed in the doorway, her mouth slightly parted, her eyes shining with shock, her hands trembling.

'Miss Bennet…I, you should not have come at this time…' he tried addressing her, as he tried to disentangle himself from Anne. 'This is…not what it seems, she came and was helpless…'

She stepped back to catch her breath, but as she looked into his eyes she saw a whirlpool of desire and mock.

She turned quickly and never looked back as he called for her loudly.

Mary broke into a desperate run, her boots thumping on the stones hard as she barely found breath not to fall on her knees.

Holding her dress up high she exited the house in a storm of hopelessness and tears.

A pleasant surprise waited for her outside as the mass of clouds had turned into a cold, stormy rain which now drenched every living being in its range.

The sky looked as if it was going to burst and wind howled sadly as trees bowed down obediently.

She ran desperately and when she made sure there was a safe distance between her and the dreaded mansion, she slowed her pace and started walking calmly but numbly on the path she had taken before.

She breathed roughly but let it not be shown, as her face remained impassive. She was whiter than Jane, if possible, her eyes were red as her stony face was drenched not in rain, but in hot large tears.

However, even the tears did not make her change her expression; they soon mixed with the rain water as it fell on her lips. She spat the water on the ground, wiping her mouth hard.

Mary now walked slowly, as if in a trance, looking up at the sky unsure and wishing a torrent could swallow her. She knew not where she was exactly but she knew there was no hope left.

She was drenched to the bones and her cloak stuck to her skin like glue. She took off her bonnet and let the rain wash her hair as it flew angrily in the wind.

A short neigh was heard from far, far away and her shoulders sagged painfully.

A trot followed and then she noticed in the distance a figure approaching mounted on a proud stallion.

Mary kept walking, ignoring the man as she looked in front of her, hoping she could reach the end of the world.

'Miss Bennet!' James yelled as he approached her. 'Miss Bennet!'

She did not stop, thus Mr. Prowler made his horse slow down as he followed Mary.

'Miss Bennet, what in the world are you doing outside on a weather like this?'

'None of your business, I am sure…' she replied flatly.

'It's like you to say that, but you are completely soaked!'

'I have no care.'

He now walked next to her, his horse pacing slowly.

'Come now, you must wish to be healthy and strong in order to see Miss Catherine marry.'

'So you've heard.'

'I knew from the minute they both walked in the Ball Room,' he said slowly.

'I see.'

'Whom did you visit on such rain, Miss Bennet? Was it worth so much trouble?'

She quickened her pace. 'Amusing question…'

He looked in the opposite direction and noticed far away the peaks of the tall mansion.

'Ah, I should have known earlier,' he replied dryly. 'Well, then what a gentleman he is, taking advantage of your company and leaving you to go home like this. But I suppose women do suffer such foolishness on the case of men.'

She turned to him suddenly, looking at him for the first time.

'Leave my side, please.'

Her saddened eyes expressed so much pain that his grin disappeared and he cast a worried glance at her. When he noticed the tears he coughed slowly and frowned.

'Why would you cry, Miss Bennet?'

'I am sure you would not care.'

'Perhaps you are wrong. I can…'

'Please, be gone.'

'I cannot leave you like this, Miss Bennet.'

'You very well can, the horse is fast I assume…' she spoke weakly as her eyes were cast down.

He dismounted and pulled his horse by the hems as he approached her.

'You are not well at all, you will surely catch pneumonia.'

'I shall be perfectly well.'

'For Heaven's sake, you are a smart woman, see reason in this!'

'And what would you have me do?' she said a tone higher.

'I'd have you let me take you home.'

'There's no need…'

'At least take my coat, Miss Bennet, you are too wet and cold,' he replied worried.

'I have my cloak thank you and you need the garment, you might catch a cold yourself,' she spoke.

'That tattered, thin piece of clothing shall not keep you warm at all.'

She turned to him to refuse but a sudden dizziness overcame her and she swayed dangerously.

He rushed to catch her as she leaned against him precariously.

James pulled his coat and wrapped it gently around her small figure, fastening it tightly. As he straightened the collars, he looked into her eyes and smiled softly.

'That's at least a bit better…come, you cannot even walk.'

She did not speak anymore for she couldn't find her voice, but she made a sign of protest.

'Nonsense…this is for your own good, Miss Bennet,' he said as he guided her towards his horse. At that point Mary stopped struggling and he helped her mount as he placed himself behind her, holding the hems as she leaned her back against his broad chest.

Her head reached his chin as he almost touched her hair. When he made sure she was comfortably and safely seated he pulled the reigns and the horse started trotting slowly.

'It will be alright,' he whispered as she closed her eyes.

* * *

They reached Pemberley half an hour later, as Mary was sleeping peacefully, nestled in his arms. They were both wet but Mary was drying up rapidly as the rain had stopped for a while.

He dismounted slowly, taking her in his arms. The servants looked on baffled but did not wait for explanations, opening the doors promptly.

He stepped in, carrying her in his arms as Mr. Darcy, Charles and Lizzie arrived to see what the commotion was about.

Lizzie's face turned into shock when she saw her sister, lifeless in Mr. Prowler's hands.

'What on Earth happened?'

'It's a long, story, Mrs. Darcy,' he replied slowly.

Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley quickly tried to aid him carry her to her room, but at that moment Mary awoke slowly.

'Wh-what…h-as happe…' she mumbled.

When she noticed she was in Mr. Prowler's arms her face whitened even more and gently tried getting down, but found no strength.

'Mary, are you alright? Heavens you gave me a fright! What were you doing outside on this weather?'

Her eyes wondered across the room and she noticed a letter in Mr. Darcy's hand with Lady Catherine's signature.

'What's that, Sir?' she asked weakly.

'Do not strain yourself, Lady Catherine has written to us in most alarming terms that Anne has somehow disappeared from Kent. I think she might have possibly run away with a fellow, but we do not know…'

'I can answer that query…'she spoke flatly.

'What ever do you mean?'

She tried replying but she coughed loudly, spitting water.

'Oh, not now, we shall talk later, let us take her to her room,' Lizzie spoke agitated.

Mr. Prowler obeyed silently as they all went up to Mary's chamber. She was placed softly on her bed as Mr. Prowler sat down in a far away corner of the room.

Georgiana immediately arrived and she was more than distressed at the sight of her.

'Mary! Dear, Mary, what has happened?'

'Not now, Georgiana, she will have her rest and we shall find out later,' Mr. Darcy spoke.

'I will stay here with her, she needs me I am sure,' she spoke worriedly.

Mary had already fallen asleep and after kissing her, Lizzie exited the room quietly followed by Charles and Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Prowler got up slowly and giving her a last sad look went out as well.

Georgiana slowly undressed her of the coat, cloak and dress and tucked her in as she peered at the coat curiously.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Miss Darcy

Mary stirred restless as her eyelids fluttered open. Darkness encumbered her from seeing where she was, but as she touched the large pile of books on her bedside table, she presumed she was in her room.

She slowly tried getting up but a terrible shot ran through her and she had to wait a few moments to get on her feet. As she fumbled blindly with her quilt she touched a rough piece of clothing at the foot of her bed.

It was a coat and it was not hers. She slowly pulled it up and she felt a strange scent that was somehow familiar.

Outside the stars shone weakly across the sky. Her petticoat was wet with sweat as she felt her cheeks cold and damp.

Mary made a few unsure steps around her bed holding the coat.

'_At least take my coat, Miss Bennet__…'_

'Ah!' she exclaimed as she threw it on the bed once more.

'Why couldn't it have been a nightmare?'

She ruffled her hair and started pacing the room.

'It was all very real, was it not? It was he…and Anne…and Mr. Prowler,' she muttered to herself. 'Anne and Mr. Fowler. Mr. Fowler and Anne.'

She reached her window and pulled at the curtains angrily.

'Why? I should like to know why?'

Her palm touched the cold glass. 'If it was her all along what business did you have with me, Sir?'

She turned and plunged into the small stool in front of her dressing table.

'Why, Sir? Why did you play with me like that?'

She pressed her hands on the wood. 'No matter how dark it is, I can well see that I am plain. I have always been plain and I shall always be. I have no fortune, only my relations recommend me. I have no accomplishments, only the name of Bennet recommends me. I am not indeed the heiress of Rosings. But I did not deserve this mockery!'

Her hands touched the pearl necklace. She stiffened involuntarily.

'And this…it's beautiful and priceless, why would you ever sacrifice this treasure for me? Give it to Anne, Sir. '

She clutched it, as if trying to crush it, but the only thing she managed to cause was a sudden flow of tears.

'No, I will not cry.'

She rose and hugged herself tightly while she tried finding a warmer garment.

'Stupid….foolish, senseless…naïve, reckless, silly, puerile, ignorant woman!' she muttered to herself. 'And in fact I cannot even call myself that.'

'Already up and patronizing yourself?'

Mary turned and noticed a figure in the dark standing at the secret door.

Georgiana stepped in, coughing quietly as she sat on the stool Mary had just abandoned.

'Well, do not stop on my account,' Georgiana continued.

Mary sighed as she toyed with the lace of her petticoat.

'I am very apologetic if I woke you up.'

'I was not sleeping, fear not. But as I've honoured you with my presence you will explain everything which came to pass Mary Bennet.'

Mary smiled weakly in the dark and leaned against her wardrobe wiping away her tears.

'I called on Mr. Fowler as you advised me to. He…he was busy entertaining Anne de Bourg.'

From her shaken voice Georgiana understood it was no trifle.

'Anne de Bourg? What a laugh. That poor infirm nun…'

'I beg to differ. She seemed…very lively when I saw her.'

'What exactly happened?' Georgiana inquired as she noticed Mary's voice was growing weaker.

'When I entered his chambers she was there with him and he was…kissing her on the lips,' she said firmly, trying to sound as veridical as possible.

If someone asked her right then why she lied in such a tremendous way, she would not know how to answer. Mary only knew she could tell no one of what she had seen and whether a benefit to Mr. Fowler or not, she would keep quiet.

'Kissing her on the lips? Well that's a fine scheme! Are you sure you saw right, Mary?'

'I would not be calling myself stupid, if I did not, would I?'

'But a kiss…it depends, it may not be as bad as you think, Mary,' Georgiana stated as she played with a comb. 'It might have been a simple friendly kiss, did not you mention he stayed at Rosings whilst in Kent?'

Mary nodded, but her shoulders already sagged inevitably.

'Well then, it is likely they stroke up a friendship before he ever thought of courting you.'

_Oh, Georgiana, if I could but tell you, you would understand and not torment me anymore. _

'In any case, what in God's name is Anne doing in Derbyshire?' Georgiana continued absorbed in her own thoughts.

'I think the question remains why she ran away from Lady Catherine.'

'Ran away? Lady Catherine does not know?'

'Your brother has received a letter from her ladyship. It seems Anne is a very rebellious being indeed. Perhaps we have all been fooled.'

'I knew nothing of this. Of course, my brother does not wish me to know of such…dangerous things,' Miss Darcy replied sourly.

'I must talk to them at once and let them know. As much as I dislike that woman, not even Lady Catherine deserves such a fright.'

Mary sat down on her bed and rested her elbows on her knees pensively.

'Well…it was simply a kiss…I am sure there must be an explanation. Perhaps, it is not…' Georgiana ventured to say.

Mary looked away and frowned sadly. 'It's no use.'

Silence engulfed the room.

'What happened then?' Georgiana asked at length.

'What happened what?' she asked bitterly.

'After you left Mr. Fowler.'

Mary remained quiet for some moments. 'It was raining outside…'

Another stream of tears threatened to break but she rubbed her eyes hard as if trying to get a piece of dirt out.

'I ran into Mr. Prowler and…he brought me home.'

Mary looked at the coat once more and she suddenly remembered how he had taken the trouble of carrying her in his arms.

'Mr. Prowler? Well, I should say that was quite lucky. He was in the area then?'

'Most likely…' she mumbled.

'So that coat belongs to him?' she said pointing at the dark object on the bed.

'You have good sight in the dark,' Mary spoke sardonically.

'Then I guess Mary, you must pay your thanking to him. He saved you from having to lie in bed for a month.'

Mary groaned. 'I actually have to show gratefulness to that man?'

Georgiana got up and scurried next to her, placing an arm round her shoulders softly.

'It's the sensible thing to do.'

'But not the most pleasant…'

Some moments passed in silence. 'You are a very strong girl, Mary Bennet. A man has deceived you and played with your hopes, on the face of it and yet you remain calm and determined.'

Mary repressed a sob.

Georgiana smiled knowingly. 'It's alright to cry, Mary. There is no shame in that, it never was. Let it out, or it shall torment you more.'

Mary felt her cheeks warm up with small tears. Georgiana's embrace intensified.

'I do not know if it will be alright, so do not expect me to say that,' she whispered softly.

* * *

_Dearest Catherine,_

_I was more than grieved when I heard the wretched news and I must but only assume Jane is taken care of as best as possible and that she will be soon out of any danger. I cannot imagine who could have done such a terrible thing, but it shan't be long in the dark. I regret, my love, that I was not there to give you comfort, but fret not, you will be happy to hear everything is well and fine in Hertfordshire. The weather has been quite splendid for the winter time._

_I am currently staying at Parker's Inn however, because it simply cannot be that a groom should reside at the bride's dwelling before the wedding. I have already been in talks with Netherfield Hall for the wedding. You shall find me waiting ardently for your return. _

_Your faithful, _

_Colonel Fitzwilliam_

'Oh, my dear Colonel! He must be waiting my reply, poor soul! Oh, I must write to him at once!' Kitty moaned as she walked across the drawing room with the letter in her hand.

'Calm down, Kitty, there's plenty of time for that,' Lizzie spoke as she put down her book. 'I think I should go check on Mary. It's almost noon.'

'Oh, I went to see her at nine and she was still in bed,' Kitty replied looking slightly worried. 'It is as if a curse has been cast upon our family. First Jane, now Mary…for one happiness, double sorrow comes. It is simply unthinkable!'

'I agree, so much misfortune is not …'

'But Mary had her blame in this. Walking in the rain like that! No matter how much she wanted to call on Mr. Fowler, it could have waited better times!'

At that moment the doors opened and Mary, accompanied carefully by Georgiana walked into the room slowly.

'Mary! What in Heaven's name are you doing up?' Lizzie exclaimed.

'You need your rest, sister,' Kitty replied bowing to Miss Darcy.

'I am quite well, at the moment,' Mary replied in a small voice. 'I've had the luck not to catch a cold.'

'The luck? What were you doing out on that weather? You must tell us what occurred at once!' Kitty bellowed.

'Do not make such haste, Miss Bennet,' Georgiana replied. 'All in their due time, but I think my brother should be called as well, as he can reply to Lady Catherine.'

For the next hour Mary sat in front of the fireplace and retold what she had previously said to Georgiana in as little words as possible, but trying to sound as clear and precise as she could.

Mr. Darcy who had come immediately sat baffled upon hearing Anne had eloped willingly and was in Mr. Fowler's company.

'But why did she run to him, mad woman?' he asked.

Mary paused.

'It is possible she has taken to him since his visit at Rosings some time ago. She probably wanted to see him…and took the morning hackney, arriving here promptly,' she said at length though she was not quite so sure of these.

'You mean she was professing her love?' Lizzie asked disconcert.

Mary trembled slightly but breathed deeply as she answered.

'I suppose so since Mr. Fowler was very much engaged in showing her his affection and she was…very happy to receive it.'

They looked at her confused.

'They were kissing,' Georgiana clarified and all looked even more surprised.

_If this causes such a shock the truth would be unbearable_, Mary thought.

'Well, I must admit I never thought my cousin…' Mr. Darcy trailed off.

'She seemed such a feeble creature, indeed,' Lizzie affirmed.

'Well, it so happens that people can deceive us easily,' Georgiana replied.

'Ah! So you see, I was perfectly right! That man is nothing but a wily git with no good…' Kitty spoke up.

'Kitty, there is no need to insult…' Mary said weakly.

'But Mary, was not he interested in your company?' Lizzie asked unsure.

'I suppose not. We were mere friends.'

'Yet the way he addressed you was not quite common for friends,' Lizzie insisted.

'Well, then, I should go and write to Lady Catherine immediately,' Mr. Darcy spoke as he kissed his wife and left the drawing room.

'Mary...' Lizzie tried again. 'This has affected you more than you mean to say. Mr. Fowler almost professed…'

'Enough, sister, it is only useless to dwell upon it,' Mary interrupted her.

'No matter what you say, Mary, you can not defend him any longer, I always knew he was an arrogant prick,' Kitty said angrily.

'Perhaps he had been more of a prick if he had abandoned Anne who, if your sayings are correct, is infatuated with him,' Lizzie added pensively.

_Of that I cannot be sure…_Mary mused worriedly.

* * *

In no time the entire household knew of what had come to pass with Mary and all were sure Mr. Fowler and Anne were secret lovers, against Lady Catherine's wishes.

Even Jane had learnt of it and expressed her sadness for Mary as she knew her sister cared for Mr. Fowler more than she would admit.

'My dear sister must probably be in very low spirits since most of us expected he would declare his affection to Mary,' she used to say to Charles while he sat at her bed, caressing her forehead.

'It was quite unexpected indeed…I do not know what to say of Anne de Bourg, only that Lady Catherine shall be infuriated by her behaviour.'

And Charles was very right indeed. Mr. Darcy's letter to his aunt was very clear in stating Anne was having an apparently secret affair with Mr. Fowler.

Lady Catherine came storming to Pemberley in just a matter of two days and was so indisposed that she yelled and bellowed at any one standing in her way.

She settled at the Darcy residence whilst she waited for Anne to return. She dared not call on Mr. Fowler as she expected her daughter to come willingly.

One cloudy afternoon, Miss de Bourg finally knocked at the Pemberley gates as she looked as fit as a fiddle.

Mary shut herself in her room and watched her from her window with knitted eyebrows. Anne was wearing a dark, violet gown with black veils as she sported a most scandalous cleavage. Her face was expressionless but for a slight quirk at the corner of her mouth.

Yet what caught Mary's sudden attention was the sparkling-white, incongruous almost, pearl necklace placed round her long neck which was glinting perversely.

Anne was made to walk to the front doors where Lady Catherine and Mr. Darcy were expecting her.

'I see you are in good health, Miss Anne,' Darcy said shaking her hand politely as a gesture of displeasure.

'Very well, Sir, thank you…' she replied meekly. 'Mama…'

Lady Catherine's lips were pursed as she stepped forward and looked at her with disgust and disappointment.

'Come here, Anne,' she spoke coldly.

The girl bowed in front of her expecting to be chided but worse was to come.

Lady Catherine grasped her locks of black hair tightly and without a word stepped out into the grounds, dragging her along.

'Mama! It hurts terribly! Let go!' she cried, tears in her eyes as she was being pulled helplessly.

'Disgrace!' Lady Catherine yelled angrily. 'You shall follow me this way until we reach Kent, you miserable, fowl girl!'

Anne tried to disentangle herself from her mother's grasp, pulling at her arms but it was no use.

She looked back at Mr. Darcy but he stood still as a rock, looking far into the horizon.

* * *

'But you cannot judge so quickly, Mary my dear!' Mrs. Bennet spoke alarmed as they all sat in the drawing room. 'See what scandal has been caused? Lord, should I have to take my daughter in such a way…'

'Mama, Anne needed to be punished accordingly for acting so reckless,' Lizzie said firmly.

'Well, I very much approve of that, but let us not make haste about Mr. Fowler! Now, he has treated Mary most gently and has not erred but in this! Ah! And it was but a kiss…' she continued.

'And is that little to you madam?' Lizzie inquired. 'If Anne cherishes him then he cannot play with the feeling of two young women.'

'That scoundrel of a woman is ill and insane, probably! Have you not seen her look? Most certainly, Mr. Fowler took pity on her and…'

'Mama, please, let us talk of something else,' Mary said as she leaned her head against Georgiana's shoulder.

'I shall not rest until I get to the bottom of this,' Mrs. Bennet spoke acridly. 'I can vouch for Mr. Fowler's guiltless behaviour.'

'Why do you esteem him so?' Lizzie asked.

'How can you ask this Lizzie? What other man has paid such attentions to Mary? And now that my poor daughter has a chance…with a man of fortune and manners! It is a lost luck I tell you!'

'And what should you have me do, mama?' Mary asked slightly annoyed.

'I'll have you write to him, at once! You must demand an explanation and assure him you are not refusing his affection.'

'Affection which he never truly proclaimed?'

'Mary, what other man could proclaim it?' Mrs. Bennet asked angrily.

She looked up, turning white with shame and surprise.

'Mama!' Lizzie spoke. 'Mary…'

She rose and left the room hurriedly not looking back. Georgiana followed her promptly.

'What was it that I said?' Mrs. Bennet inquired worriedly.

Lizzie rolled her eyes and dropped in her chair upset.

'Mary!' Georgiana called in the empty corridor. She ran towards her chambers only to find her getting dressed.

'You are going for a walk?' she inquired.

'Yes, I need a breath of fresh air. I see my clothes have dried up.'

She put on her green dress and snatched the coat on her bed as if wanting to hit someone with it, all this done in a fast pace.

'I'll take this with me to keep me warm. I should make use of it until I must return it,' she spoke angrily.

'I'd rather you did not. What if it rains again?'

Mary smiled weakly. 'I shall walk very near the Park, fear not, I have no intention to catch a nasty illness on account of Mr. Fowler.'

'Mary, what your mother said…'

'Is of no importance, even if there is truth in her words. It bothers me not.'

'She has mistaken.'

'I shall return soon,' she continued and pecked Georgiana as she left her room.

* * *

The deep forests surrounding Pemberley were charming indeed as they sparkled with rain and shook with fury as the wind swept up the dead leaves and fallen branches. Green was now grey but she occasionally found one or two pines to marvel at.

The paths were clearly outlined as Mr. Darcy had gone hunting many times and the puddles of mud threatened to cover the tracks. She walked slowly, stepping over each inconvenience.

The sky was white and sombre, no cheerfulness escaping its grief.

Some ravens flew wistfully over her head and she shivered slightly pulling the coat tighter around her.

She could see from that fair distance the great, blue lake and she wished it could be summer and she could take a swim.

As she was walking deeper in the woods, brushing off twigs and bushes she heard some strange words coming from a small distance.

As she got closer she realised someone was cursing most intensely.

'Blasting bloody, Devil, now how do I get out of this one?' the voice spoke angrily.

She looked around but she could see no one. Through the thick ferns she saw she had arrived at a beautiful sad meadow, vast and wide, lengthening towards the village.

'Oh, a lady! Bless the Heavens! Could you please be of assistance to me?' the voice spoke suddenly.

She looked around frightened as she held the hems of her dress tightly.

'Who is there? Come out, show yourself.'

'I cannot. Look, I'm up here!'

She turned slowly and when she looked up she noticed that in a fairly tall, proud oak stood a young man in a very odd position with his feet up in the branches.

He seemed to be in pains as he was held tightly by the legs, with his upper body dangling in the air. A tight rope could be seen gliding down the trunk.

The unfortunate fellow had fallen in a rabbit trap.

'If you could but pull at that rope and set me free!' he spoke loudly in order to be heard.

Mary looked at him unsure.

'Please, dear lady, I shall give you money if necessary.'

She frowned. 'There is no need for that, Sir. I am not a poor beggar.'

With that she pulled at the rope hard until he almost fell from the tree.

'No, no! Slowly or you shall end my days. Now pull slowly until you see my body lower!'

She listened to him carefully and, supporting her feet against the trunk she pulled at the rope, sweat emerging from her forehead as her hands burnt.

'Just a bit more!' he said loudly.

Using all her might she made a final pull and he landed on the ground with a loud thump.

She fell with him as they both rolled in the dust and leaves. The branches cracked as if frightened as he cursed once more.

He slowly got up and seeing as she had collapsed as well, helped her get back on her feet.

'I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but as you can see hunters are as thick as the prey.'

She shook her head slightly annoyed but took his hand and managed to rise.

'I thank you for your services, however. I do not know how long a time I would have been stuck up there had it not been for you, Miss…' he continued.

'Mary,' she replied.

'Miss Mary, I am very much in your debt,' he bowed and she noticed he was quite young and handsome, as his blond hair reached his shoulders and his brown eyes smiled warmly.

'Oh, you seem to have dropped something,' he said as he noticed a small piece of jewellery sparkling on the ground.

He picked it up but remained transfixed with the object in his hand. His whole face whitened as in a spasm and his hands shook terribly.

'Sir, what is the matter?' she asked concerned. She looked at his hands and noticed he was holding a locket.

It was Miss Darcy's locket. The same one Mr. Darcy had placed in the pocket of Mary's dress and now it had fallen in the hands of this man.

'Miss…how do you… you reside at Pemberley?' he asked trying to steady his voice.

'How do you know that?'

His face broke in a grin as he grasped the locket tightly to his chest.

'Oh, you have made me the happiest of men,' he said as he pulled her in a brotherly embrace.

'Sir, control yourself!' she protested.

Miss, do you know Miss Darcy then? Oh, please tell me you do, otherwise you wouldn't have her picture.'

'Yes, I am quite well acquainted with her. Why do you…'

'Oh, please then inform her that Theodore has arrived for her. Please tell her that I am here in Derbyshire. Tell her that I could not keep longer away!'

'Your name is Theodore?' she inquired curiously.

'Yes, I can tell you no more. She will understand immediately, I assure you! But please, have pity on me and send her this message. Tell her I know I should not have come, but if she only could walk into these woods, we could meet safely.'

Mary tried following his rapid words but was lost in a storm of questions.

'Meet? Miss Darcy? You know her well?' she asked.

'More than anyone, that is why you must tell her, I beg you! And please inform her that I am safe and well, she might worry.'

'Sir, this is all…I cannot simply…'

He embraced her again. 'Please, kind lady, you saved me once, you cannot refuse me again, her happiness depends upon it; I entreat you!'

'Oh, if you insist so I shall see what I can do. After all, it is not great business delivering a message, but I must know who you are.'

'When she hears my name she shall know,' he spoke smiling softly. 'And she shall smile as I smile, now that fate has smiled upon me.'

She looked at him baffled.

_What in the world…_

'Very well then…but do not expect me to encourage her to meet a stranger in the forests!'

'I am no stranger, I am he who waits for her and shall no matter what,' he spoke firmly.

She saw the skies darken as the wind swept her dress.

'I must go now, but fret not, Sir, Miss Darcy shall know.'

'Oh, thank you, a thousand times thank you!' he exclaimed kissing her loudly on both hands.

'Oh, enough, how silly,' she said pulling away. 'Adieu.'

'Do not forget!' he yelled after her as she walked away rapidly.

* * *

Georgiana walked through the garden morosely, keeping Jane, who now dared a walk in the gardens, company. Mrs. Bingley held her arm softly as she strolled happily through the burnt grass.

'Thank you Georgiana, for helping me walk about, I truly needed to get out,' she said softly. 'I hope I have not caused you too much trouble.'

'Not at all, Mrs. Bingley, I enjoy walking myself, especially in the company of a dear friend.'

They both saw the skies darkening and they knew their walk must come to an end soon, but neither moved as a sight to behold caught their eye.

Mary was running hastily across the stony alley which led to the entrance doors.

'Mary!' they both called.

She turned in her step as she noticed her sister and her friend coming slowly towards her from the opposite end of the garden.

'Oh, there you are!' she exclaimed.

'Mary, are you alright?' Jane asked worriedly. 'What was all the haste about? Has something happened?'

'Oh, no Jane, do not trouble yourself I had merely gone on a walk. I feared the rain would come so I rushed home,' she said panting for breath.

'Well, let us get inside then.'

All three entered the house and Georgiana led Jane to her chambers as Mary waited calmly for her return. She went to her room and discarded her coat as she stepped into her friend's chamber through the secret door.

Looking around she saw nothing that could hint she was acquainted with a man, but she knew Georgiana could hide things very well and that all this time had not wanted to trouble her, a thing for which she felt guilty.

Miss Darcy was surprised to find Mary pacing her room up and down, but smiled pleased to see her in better spirits.

Mary stopped when she noticed her friend and fixed her with a serious gaze.

'Georgiana, we need to talk.'

Her smile fell and her eyes darkened with worry.

'Has something come to pass? You did not encounter Mr. Fowler, did you?'

'Nothing of that sort. I did encounter however, Theodore.'

Georgiana barely managed to keep on her feet at hearing the name. If his face had whitened, hers reddened with such power that Mary almost smiled.

Her voice was shaken as she turned towards the window.

'Theodore? I have not heard this name before.'

'He sent me a message for you, Miss Darcy,' she spoke amused.

She turned surprised as her eyes glinted with hope.

'Then let us hear it, immediately,' she spoke flustered.

'I thought you knew not who Theodore was…' Mary trailed off.

Georgiana sighed. 'Oh, nothing can be hidden from you! He is a gentleman I know…but what in God's name is he doing here?'

'What do you mean?'

'He should not be here! Oh, it is not safe.'

'He said he could not keep away any longer,' Mary said smiling knowingly.

Georgiana's face brightened. 'Oh, he has come for me! Oh, how insane yet…'

'Now, you'd better tell me all, or else I shall tell you nothing myself,' Mary said sitting on the bed.

Georgiana turned and sighed relieved. 'It is such an odd story.'

_Miss Darcy walked slowly across the green valley which led to the sea as her feet thumped loudly on the yellow, dusty stones. Mrs. Brimstock, one of the ladies of Bath, accompanied her, holding a charming, blue umbrella for the both of them as the sun pierced their faces. Another group of young ladies followed behind as Mr. Doiners, the pastor guided them closely. Mrs. Doiners joined Mrs__. Brimstock in front, as she wiped her forehead with a large worn handkerchief._

'_Oh, dreadful heat, indeed and I, in such demanding clothes,' she spoke through ragged breaths._

'_I can only imagine, dear lady, but you are too __humble for any sort of garment, I see,' Mrs. Brimstock spoke. 'If I could but have your will, but I have this dear child to make me feel less of a woman of society. With children one always feels closer to the Lord.'_

_Georgiana rolled her eyes as her eyes swept across the blue, stormy sea. _

_Her feet were sore from walking in such a stiff way and Mrs. Brimstock was the most boring companion once could ever imagine. She had tried conversing with the other ladies, but all were sisters from a convent, preparing to take the veil and all subjects seemed immoral to them. _

_She felt alone and dreary and cursed her brother for thinking Bath would do every damned year. _

_They reached the town which was crowded and noisy as ever, now more that the merchants from London had arrived with the latest fashion and trinkets. _

_The streets seemed an endless hoard as she walked precariously next to the ladies, dust and soot dirtying the hems of her dress. _

_The ladies walked towards the ribbons shop which seemed less crowded and offered some shade from the sun. The hosier welcomed them happily. _

_Georgiana stood in line outside the shop playing with her locket from time to time. _

'_Oh, Miss Darcy, take care of these please,' Mrs. Doiners spoke as she dropped four umbrellas and two hats in her arms._

'_With pleasure…milady…'she spoke sardonically. _

_Sighing she leaned against the wall, as a soft breeze started playing with her hair. She noticed nothing stirred around her, everything was heat and sunshine._

_Then she realised there could hav__e been no breeze._

_Turning abruptly she saw a young man running away rapidly._

_Touching her neck she noticed the necklace was gone._

'_You! Come back here!' she screamed annoyed. 'Come back at once!'_

_She knew however it was useless, thus she dropped the umbrellas and hats, grabbed the folds of her dress and broke into a refreshing run. _

_She followed his figure across the crowd as she noticed him going deeper into secluded alleys. An intricate labyrinth of dust and cobble lay in front of her and all people moved about like busy ants rushing to their ant hill. She would have stayed to admire the bustle had it not been for the young man. _

'_Stop this instant, thief!' she yelled after him. 'Stop, I tell you!' _

_He ran into the busy streets, pulling at tables and stalls as he went in order to stop her, but she avoided them carefully as she noticed him turn a corner._

'_Pardon me,' she excused herself as she bumped into the merchants. 'Pardon me.' _

_Georgiana avoided the huge crowd that had gathered to see some caged animals as she turned into a dark street which smelled oddly of fish. _

'_There you are!' she exclaimed as he stopped near a liquor shop. _

'_Now, give that back this instant, you scoundrel!' she spoke as her hair fluttered angrily. _

_He looked at her smiling unsure and bowed politely. _

'_Ah, you do not fool me with that petty act.'_

_He smirked pleased and spoke in a sly voice._

'_On the contrary, I always try to be polite around pretty ladies such as yourself.' _

'_Yes, yes and the Sun is actually a dot in the sky! Give that necklace back!' _

_He stepped closer and took off his hat, letting his blond locks flow freely. _

'_I shall give it back on one condition, milady.'_

'_And what is that?' _

'_I've noticed your elderly companion had a silver brooch, adorner with sapphires, pinned at her breast. If you manage to steal that for me, I shall give you the necklace back.' _

_She looked at him baffled. 'How dare you?'_

'_Come now, you do not seem to like her so much.'_

'_How would you know?' _

'_Who could like such a woman anyway?'_

'_You ask me to do a very disgraceful thing,' she spoke angrily._

'_And the blame falls on me completely; all you have to do…'_

'_No, it is absurd!'_

'_Do you want to see your necklace again?' _

'_But I cannot!'_

'_It's the easiest! You are close to her and she trusts you. What could be simpler? At least try, Miss.' _

'_Ah! And then you shall give it back?'_

'_You have my word as a fellow thief.'_

_She scowled and they both turned back towards the ribbons shop. As she reached it she noticed with relief a cabby boy had taken the dropped objects respectfully and placed them in a carriage which Mr. Doiners had called. _

'_Now, I shall wait behind the shop,' he spoke as he smiled at her mirthfully._

_She sighed and entered the shop._

'_Ah, Miss Darcy there you are! Oh, you simply must see this beautiful golden ribbon, it would go perfect with your white dress,' Mrs. Brimstock spoke as she placed a ribbon in her hands._

_She smiled complacently. 'Oh, but this one is far too flaunty! I'd rather take something softer in colour,' she spoke trying to distract Mrs. Brimstock. _

'_Here this one, madam,' she called her as she stood behind her. Georgiana brought the pink ribbon in front of her eyes and Mrs. Brimstock took it between her fingers._

'_Well, well how nice indeed…' she mused as she examined it._

_Georgiana slowly lowered her head towards her nape as she placed her arms round her neck._

'_Oh, please buy it for me__, Mrs. Brimstock,' she said kissing her cheek loudly._

_The lady laughed good-humouredly. 'Oh, child…' _

_Miss Darcy carefully placed her fingers round her brooch, which stood erect on her breast and with a soft clink managed to take it off as she pulled it swiftly behind the lady's armpit. She hid the piece of jewellery under her dress as she followed her to pay for the ribbon. _

'_Oh, I shall be so happy wearing it!' she spoke as she embraced the lady once more. _

'_Dear, child, well aren't you a darling?! What good joy has gotten into you?'_

'_Bath is just so splendid,' she spoke as she turned towards the door. _

'_I shall see if the carriage is ready.'_

_As she exited the shop she breathed deeply, wiping her sweat from her forehead. With steady steps she turned the corner where the young man awaited._

'_You …you've got it?' he looked at her baffled._

'_Of course,' she smirked. 'Here it is.' _

_She took it out of her dress and stood expectantly in front of him._

_He looked at her surprised, not believing his eyes. _

'_You actually succeeded. Why, milady, I only put you through such a task thinking…'_

'_I could not do it? Well, now, be a gentleman and keep your word,' she said smiling amused. _

_He grinned and took out the necklace. _

_She approached him rapidly to snatch it but he grabbed her arm slyly and brought her mouth to his. _

_Their lips met in a kiss that was so unexpected that she almost dropped the brooch as he pulled her closer. Her eyes opened as she stared at him and she grabbed her necklace as he took the brooch from her clasped hand. Their kiss ended and they pulled away surprised. _

'_A true princess of thieves…' he whispered smiling. _

'_Georgiana! Georgiana! Oh, where is that girl? Miss Darcy!' _

_Everyone was calling for her as they needed to leave. _

'_Miss Darcy…' he spoke as he kissed her hand. 'I see… it was my pleasure to do business.'_

'_Likewise,' she spoke softly and laughed amused. _

_Miss Darcy quickly ran away as Mrs. Doiners caught her by the arm._

'_Oh, there you are Miss, heavens we were worried you might have been lost. Come now…' she said leading her to the carriage._

_As she stepped in she saw the young man coming out of the alley and smiling at her slyly. _

_As the carriage moved away he called after her._

'_When can I see you again?' _

'_Never!' she yelled back as she leaned out the window._

'_Miss Darcy what are you doing?' Mrs. Brimstock asked alarmed._

'_Oh, nothing at all, madam.' _

_They arrived on the coast at noon time and settled in the red-bricked villa that had a beautiful view of the seaside. She was in high spirits all throughout the evening as they placed their luggage and made themselves comfortable._

_She fumbled across the house uneasy and looked out at the sea when other things needed to be done. _

_They all went for a walk across the beach later on but she saw and met no one at all, but for a stray dog which had taken a liking to her as he followed her staunchly. _

_A sudden feeling of sadness enveloped her as she realised she would never truly see him again. _

_As night came she lingered in her room sadly, kicking small stools out of her way as she blew out the candles. _

'_I should have told him where I am staying. But what for? He's a…' _

'_Pssst!' _

_The sound came from the balcony. _

'_Miss Darcy!' someone whispered. She turned abruptly and opened the French windows. _

_As she stepped on the low balcony she saw, down in the garden the young thief. _

'_Sir!' she exclaimed happily. _

'_Come down,' he entreated her. _

'_No, it's madness!' _

'_Life is madness itself,' he whispered smiling mirthfully. _

'_How did you find me?'_

'_You belittle my capabilities, milady. Please, come down.' _

_She would only have to jump and land on the ground safely for she stayed on the ground floor. _

'_Come on, then!' _

_She braced herself and skipped the railing as she jumped with all her might. _

_He rushed to help her as she almost fell but his strong arms protected her as she steadied herself against his chest. _

_They shared another quick kiss before she pulled away._

'_No, this is insane. You're a thief!' _

'_And you're a beautiful lady of the Shire, I suppose.'_

'_Right you are, Robin Hood…' _

'_Then let me introduce myself,' he said bowing. 'Theodore Stoddard, merchant by day, thief by night.' _

_She laughed as she bowed herself._

'_And you are Miss Darcy, lady by day and princess of thieves by night,' he spoke as he took her in his arms again._

'_But I know nothing of you!'_

'_And I know nothing of you! Isn't it marvellous?' he laughed kissing her on the forehead._

_He placed the brooch in her hand. 'Take it back, I shan't steal from my mistress.' _

'_Theodore, I am only staying for a week.' _

_He embraced her as her feet left the ground. 'That's plenty of time to teach you everything about the art of theft.'_

'_How can I trust you?' _

'_You cannot, but you can trust that you have bewitched me from the first minute.' _

* * *

Georgiana landed on the bed next to Mary who listened in shock, her mouth agape.

'And from then on we met every day at night fall…he told me of his business. He sells liquor and brews it as well, but sometimes he cannot make ends meet. He was raised by a hoard of thieves as a child with his sister and thus he manages to steal for a living as well, since he cannot support her. They are orphans living in London all by themselves in an old, tatty maisonette.'

'But how did he know about Pemberley…?'

'I told him everything of my home and family and he promised to come and take me away some day soon.'

'But that's very dangerous, Georgiana!'

'He's a very kind man, I assure you, he would not steal if he did not have to, but his sister is very sickly and always needs care and medicine as well as money for dowry.'

'There must be other ways!'

'In London there isn't. He cannot get another employment other than a liquor merchant no matter how hard he tries and he's already in trouble there, has a reputation with the officers and is watched over constantly! My poor Theodore…'

'Oh, Georgiana this is a complete mess! He came here to see you when he is in danger of being discovered!'

'Do you not think I worry myself? What did he say?'

Mary managed to compose herself and told her exactly what occurred.

Georgiana smiled saddened. 'If he says he is safe he must be, he gets around very well, but he must take great care or I shall fear the worst.'

'But surely you will not go into the woods to meet him?'

'Of course I will, I can hardly wait to see him! I must let him know at once that I still love him.'

'You love him?' Mary asked as her eyes widened.

'Well, how else do you call it? He's always been in all my thoughts, as if I travelled with him wherever he went.'

'I think you are being too hasty…You know him for such a short time. Surely…' Mary continued but Georgiana ignored her.

'Ah, the locket remained in his possession, after all.'

'Georgiana, why was the locket in my dress?'

'I have no idea…but…the last time I saw it…it was in my brother's possession.'

Mary suddenly reddened.

'Do you think that he came after you and accidentally…' she ventured.

Georgiana raised an eyebrow. 'Came after me?'

'Oh, alright, I didn't tell you something as well. I heard the conversation that took place between you and your brother in his study.'

'Why did you never tell me?'

'Why did you never tell me of Theodore?'

'I thought I would trouble you…'

'Well so did I!'

They stared at each other for some moments before bursting into a good-humoured laugh.

'Oh, but you must tell your brother of Theodore,' Mary spoke between laughs.

'He already knows that…but he doesn't know him, or his character, he thinks I am being courted by another Wickham…He found out from Mrs. Brimstock that a man was coming to see me every night. Apparently, that hag did actually notice some things.'

'But Mr. Darcy shall listen to you if…'

'No, he shall not. Not yet…I cannot yet. I must see him first, I must see Theodore. After that I'll be able to face the world.'

They were both interrupted by a loud knock which was heard in the other room, at Mary's door.

'I should go and see…' she mumbled as she exited through the secret door.

A maid was waiting for her with a letter.

As she left, Georgiana came in and looked at it curiously.

Mary's face dropped as she looked at the writing.

'It's from Mr. Fowler.'


	15. Chapter 15

_**Hi everyone. I want to apologize for yet another delay and also for the shortness of this chapter, but school is as busy as ever. Term papers are a drag. I hope you can make do with this one. Hope you like it! **_

Chapter 15: Pemberley Gates Closed

_Miss Mary Bennet, _

_I have written these lines in the hope that you shall not dismiss them the moment you see the letter. I truly hope you can pursue them till the very end and make an opinion of them. Not of their handsomeness for sure, but of their staunchness to my feelings of considerable remorse. _

_A remorse not at all indebted to my acts of lustfulness, as you may call them, but to my encouraging poor Miss de Bourgh in her whimsical attempts to have me show affection to her. _

_You might as well inquire how I came to be such a companion to her, but you can well remember my staying at Rosings in the summer. I did not expect to find any warm considerations or proofs of kin. I also did not expect to become the immediate friend and confidant of Anne. She is a charming, shy, rather spirited girl, yet an ignoramus and far too tasteless, vulgar and conceited for my likes. Yet it was a glint of hope in that grey situation. We both despised her mother. You must not condemn me for so shocking a declaration. It is but the truth and I think you would prefer it that way. _

_After a period of time I realised that my affection was misguided and misleading and I suffered her let me be. Yet she would not, she would threaten to tell Lady Catherine of our bond, an issue I did not want to be let out in the open. It was only a petite affair. _

_Then you came into my sight, Mary Bennet and such a contrast you were to her pestilence that I quickly understood you were perfectly fit for my character. I directed most of my attentions to you and I desired to inspire certain feelings, stir your heart as perverse as it may sound. With a bit of encouragement love would not be so far away. I am being quite forward, for the situation calls for bluntness, yet I can assure you I always meant to treat you with the highest regard and care. _

_The misfortune took place in her following me desperately to my home in Derbyshire. Anne missed me terribly, poor girl was in love and I received her warmly, believing I can perhaps alleviate her pain. As any man I am very flattered when a woman professes eternal love to me. She almost knelt at my feet. I considered calling a hackney couch to take her to town, but seeing as miserable as she was I bade her stay for tea. It was not so much trouble of me and it was the least I could do…after causing her such distress. I told her she can ask anything of me in return for her pain. I offered fortune, jewellery, hyacinths, for Goodness Sake, the moon! I cannot stand a woman crying, believe me, it's a wretched sight. She wanted nothing of such things. I was tormented, I knew not what else I could offer. She murmured "a kiss". I obeyed…from thereon she became mistress of me and it happened so that I lost my will and power to think rationally. This may seem a very petty, if not foolish excuse, but it is the truth, nonetheless._

_The look you gave me while standing at the door made me realise I deserved to be perhaps taken to the gallows. I suppose nothing else would be fit. Suffice it to say, all night and day I thought about no one but you. I did not worry about Anne or her journey home, I recoiled from her skin and shut myself up, trying to write to you. I am not a sentimental man, I cannot create pretty lines for milkmaids, I am not the lonely troubadour, yet all I could consider in those moments was that I might have lost you eternally. I will not say more on account of my feelings, they are easily understood._

_If there is one thing I deeply request of you, humble kind girl, is that you show this letter to no one else. Let it be that what came to pass remain between our souls. I do not hope for your forgiveness, but I do hope that such affairs will not be let out in the open for all to hear. It would pain you and I. More pain is not something I wish to cause you, even though the proof of such pain shows you are not entirely indifferent to me. _

_I do not dare to ask for your reply, but I do wish that after some time you could write to me, as sign of your kindness, as sign that your torment has passed and that you might bear to see me again. _

_I will not come out of this study, I shall remain here with my guilt and foolishness, not sleep, not eat, only think, meditate; the rightful activity of any engaged mind, especially that of a young man with no ruling head.. Reflection shall cost me my sweat charmingly for the sake of redemption. _

_Harold Fowler_

Mary reread the letter four times, her hands trembling slightly. Her perusal was so fast that she was sure she might have misread some words. Yet all was as she had suspected. She gave a great sigh as she sat on her bed. Georgiana sat still in the middle of the room, looking at her anxiously.

'Well?' she murmured at length.

Mary kept her face down, breathing slowly.

_Remorse? Was it just a f__eeble flirt between him and Anne? He will leave his study soon I suppose. He could not possibly care about me. The entire point of this letter is to keep me quiet about his affairs. Is it not?_

These thoughts swarmed in her head like bees and she could not make them go away as reflections such as these she turned into issues of conscience.

With a sudden movement, she tore up the letter in two.

'What are you doing?' Georgiana almost yelled.

Mary, not seeming to hear her, continued to tear it in four, eight…dozens of parts, until nothing was left of it, but a small pile on the floor. It resembled a tattered ship after the harrowing doings of a tragic tempest.

'Mary, why did you do that?'

She lifted her head and cleared her throat.

'So that no one else can read it.'

'Why should…'

'It was his request and I intend to respect it.'

Georgiana sighed and went to sit by her, not sure of what she should say or do.

'At least tell me he wrote a charming letter, presenting you with very reasonable excuses that make him as innocent as the unborn child.'

'I would not say so…but he has tried to give reasons for his behaviour towards Anne. They were not so artful as I predicted.'

'Not knowing more is a great disadvantage, pray tell me more, Mary.'

'I'm afraid I cannot…'

'I told you of Theodore, it is only fair…'

'You told me of him after I came across his unfortunate existence…'

'It does not matter…'

'Please, when the time comes, you shall be the first to know.'

Perhaps such countenance is not the rightful one for our heroine, considering her lack of experience in such matter. It could be said, dear reader, that she was rather naïve to conceal the truth and not entrust in the kindness of friends and family, but it must be understood that such pleasant companions might have troubled Mary more, rather than set her mind clear and at rest.

Georgiana, however, was a sensible creature who could wait, in patience, for Miss Bennet to make up her mind.

* * *

'It is not looking exactly well, is it? The bare facts remain…not even noble Adam Smith could help you disentangle this one, dear Sir.'

'I see…' Darcy frowned slightly as he sipped from his brandy.

'Worry not, however, I shall try my best to…'

'I already have a solicitor and two barristers dealing with the papers, but I thank you kindly, Mr. Prowler. You needn't trouble yourself.'

'It is no trouble at all. For a friend of Charles' I would gladly take the bother.'

'Trust him at his word, Darcy, it's quite his thing and the chap can do wonders,' Charles smiled complacently as he sat across the desk.

Darcy got up and without even noticing, started pacing the room slowly taking out a letter from one of his drawers; document which had clearly been read fifty times, at least.

'I have mentioned the situation to you Sir and I do not suppose you can give me a better answer than my fellow lawyers.'

Mr. Prowler paused and turned his chair towards Darcy's figure as he saw him standing near a ceremonious sculpture which was a clever likeness of Richard Bentley's bust.

'You own properties and land in London…that town is my breast-pocket, I know it quite better than anyone else and I can certify that when dealing with legal papers in London, you do not get out of it spick and span. You cannot…there are too many mutual interests to deal with. But…if you insist that the property is rightfully yours…then we shall see if that gentleman cooperates.'

'Just as I though then…the same reply given by all the other. No actions, only words. Then again, such is the pace in London.'

'Diplomacy is our best coin, at the moment, I am departing for London in two days, if you wish me to look into the issue, tell me so and I'd be more than happy to oblige.'

'Come now, Darcy, he is one of the best and there's nothing to lose. Your lawyers do not even dwell in ol' London,' Charles spoke with mirth. 'They might not know all the ins and outs…'

'Yes…now I am assured,' he added cynically. 'Very well then…'

* * *

Jane was in much better spirits, she had truly recovered and was quite ready to depart at any given time. Charles was still slightly uneasy and confused by the inability to find an answer, or at least some clue as to his wife's illness. The more he looked into it, the less he understood how liquor could have found its way to his wife's lips. Mr. Bennet, however, was quite alarmed by this event, though he showed this to no one. His anxiety enclosed his fear for his daughter's and the child's safety, but also his torment that there might be someone in their vicinity willing to harm Jane.

Meanwhile, the other sisters occupied their time as they found fit, awaiting the inevitable departure. Lizzie spent most of her day aiding the eldest sister with difficult tasks and keeping her entertained. However, she spared some afternoons for Kitty, as they discussed affairs of the approaching wedding. Such meetings were always "chaired" by Mrs. Bennet, who professed to be connoisseur in all matters of marriage and dowry.

'But mama, surely, he will not expect a substantial dowry. My Colonel cherishes me enough to consider me his treasure.'

'Pshaw! Naïve woman you are my dear! All men can love, goodness knows, even your father can "cherish" things. Why, he cherishes his chickens a great deal, did not you know?'

'Mother, stop putting such ideas into Kitty's head. My husband asked for no dowry at all,' Lizzie interrupted.

'Because he is in clover, my dear, it would have been a shame for _him_ to ask for such a thing with ten thousand a year! But the Colonel…heaven knows, as decent a man as he is, he is no wealthy crafty fellow. He earned his bread fairly and gained his penny.'

'His fortune is enough to support us, mama,' Kitty spoke in bored tones as she played with the folds of her dress.

'You speak so now, but let me see you in twenty years when you have five daughters and…'

'And we shall be as efficient as you mama, in securing handsome and most agreeable partners to our reckless, innocent victims called daughters,' Lizzie spoke, trying to end the matter.

'Pah! You greet my words with laughter, well…'

'No one is laughing, mama,' Kitty added.

'Very well then, but irony is of no use here, I did secure you all great gentlemen. Now all I have left is Lydia to take care of, poor girl…'

'And Mary, mama, do not leave her out of your schemes.'

'Oh, I needn't worry about her…' she spoke wily.

'Why not?' Kitty asked interested.

'Well, for Pete's sake, she cannot simply refuse a man like Mr. Fowler. For sure, she has stirred his heart and a proposal might be on its way. I do not believe that small incident is to be given any consideration at all. For just a kiss…a man must be forgiven…and one does not know if that wicked Anne did not force the poor man…'

'Mama, this has already been discussed countless times.'

'What I meant to say was that Mary shall come to her senses soon and realise no better offer will ever be made to her in her life. I am certain of it and I am also certain Mr. Fowler will prove his superiority as partner by winning her attention and affection. For one thing she should be grateful…no other man would go to such lengths for as plain a figure as hers.'

Both ladies remained quiet as her mother mumbled such things to herself half-angry, half-pleased. Neither knew what to talk of so they returned to idling away their time.

'But as I mentioned, my poor Lydia will not be able to survive alone with a child. We could offer her all the support needed and I am sure all would love that bundle of joy, but the child needs a father. My, I wonder how you would have turned out without Mr. Bennet by my side.'

Lizzie raised her eyebrow. 'Is it so?'

'The influence of a man is paramount. In any case…where is my Lydia? I haven't seen her all day.'

'She's visiting Mrs. Woble _again_,' Lizzie intoned cynically. 'I think she has found her long lost twin sister.'

'Mrs. Woble?'

'You should be acquainted with her, mama, she came to dinner last Wednesday, unaccompanied by her husband and stuck to Lydia's arm and breast as if they were two peas in a pod. For the entire evening, they were completely immersed in their own prattle. Quite troublesome…' Kitty spoke rather annoyed.

'Oh, it's simply so that Mrs. Woble adores Lydia and agrees with everything she says. It seems as of late, she has taken all her advice and word for granted and now they both look quite vulgar in those long neck dresses and heavy purses in which they keep three pennies.'

'Lizzie!'

'Pardon me for my bluntness, I was raised to be outspoken, mama,' she smiled amused.

* * *

The day after Mr. Prowler left for London, the Bennets decided it was finally time to return to their quiet home. Some might expect a new event to have stopped their journey, a new adventure or tragedy to have rendered them incapable of leaving. Yet, nothing of the sort happened. In fact, the tedious affair was as interesting as reading a literary essay by Sir Richard Steele at midnight, at the light of a feeble candle.

Jane and Charles arranged their departure the day afterwards and the preparations did not take long since everything had been already prepared for their initial leave.

Mary was relieved to return home at last, yet she felt pained that she had to say goodbye to Georgiana, who had become a valuable friend. They promised to write to each other regularly, though Mary was not so sure she could deliver any interesting news from Longbourn.

Our heroine would be far away form Mr. Fowler and such thought made her look forward to arriving in Hertfordshire as soon as possible. What was in her heart exactly no one can describe, but she missed her solitude, her room and her quiet ventures into the land of old books.

Lizzie was sad to see them go, but quite tired from all the efforts she had made to be a presentable and honourable mistress of Pemberley. She wanted to run through the fields again, lie in the sun and go down by the river to wet her feet. Such schemes her mother knew nothing of and it was preferable they remained a secret.

No one could have been more distressed than Lydia, however. She called on Mrs. Woble and bade her write to her whenever it was convenient for her, or whenever there was gossip to be breached. Such care between the two made even Mary address a few cynical remarks to her sister. Lydia was deaf to them. Mrs. Woble was her staunch follower.

Mrs. Bennet was not at all in pain as she expected a wedding soon where she would see all her family reunited once more, an opportunity she would not miss. Her mind was fully occupied and shedding tears, embracing daughters, bidding adieus, were all too much for her.

No one asked of Mr. Prowler. Few people knew he had left the day before, but Mary wondered briefly, as the carriage pulled away and the gates were closed firmly, whether he was still in the meadows hunting for hares. She waved back at Lizzie who stood on the doorstep, smiling warmly.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Agonies and Letters

It was another journey home with innumerable troubles and glitches. For one thing, Lydia was not in the best of moods and kept shouting at the horseman for driving too fast, thus putting her baby's life in danger. Everyone just wanted to get home and lie down, with a bowl of nice, hot gruel within their reach. These thoughts encompassed a kind of luxury which could diminish the stormy weather of January, but it would have to wait. Several times the couch had to stop, several times Kitty fell asleep on Mary's shoulder, several times Mrs. Bennet declared they needed to buy another carriage.

Mary felt almost excited, if possible, about returning home. In that she was the happiest creature of the family. No evils to torment her in the safety of her room…

'Th-the…Colonel…going to wear the flower…t-tomorrow…kiss…' Kitty mumbled trying to snug closer to Mary who only smiled shaking her head.

'Yes, yes you'll wear the flower and kiss the Colonel.'

Kitty almost giggled. A woman in love was a strange spectacle of intuition meeting feeling, but no one though of that…because there simply were other more important things to consider, such as wedding gown and cake.

Night fell and a heavy rain prickled angrily over the hungry soil. Crows flew by dragging with them winding smokes from chimneys…shapes of strange origins crossed the darkened skies, hay workers ran over the fields like ants retreating to their colonies.

At dawn they had arrived and everyone believed Netherfield had never looked prettier.

A large quilt of snow engulfed the barren lands in a starry whiteness, as if the sky had fallen on earth. Mary couldn't wait to stroll across the meadows and pick up snow in her hands, letting it glide gently between her fingers. She enjoyed the ephemeral iciness of it. The most thrilling sensation was loneliness in winter.

The snow creaked under their feet as they stepped out slowly, one by one, eyeing the fields as if they had come to strange, mythical lands of ancient times. Everyone was surprised, for never had there been so much snow. Surely, it was not even a quarter of what was weighing in the North, yet it still consisted of a large portion of frozen soil.

'Quite a view…'

'We shall need more logs, Mr. Bennet.'

'I wonder if Roberta has made us some pudding…'

'First we'll settle down for some tea, always good for the nerves.'

Voices mixed in the soft chime of the wind which winded smoothly through branches, throwing snowflakes in the air, like lazy butterflies wishing to join the lovely petals of their mistresses. However, they would but fall on the sugary earth, joining their brothers and sisters in painful dissolution.

The hall was dusty and dark, but warm and fairly comfortable. Beyond that lay an adventure that only loyal servants could try to venture on.

The wallpaper shrugged carelessly when its masters entered the parlour, the coffee tables bowed serenely and the windows coughed loudly, letting out a river of soot. However, let not the reader think their dwelling was taken over by cobwebs and dirt, it was merely a state of solitary insolence, rather than actual disparage.

In a couple of days or so everyone knew the house would return to its shrill rhythm.

Mary excused herself and ran to her room pleased, throwing herself on the bed the minute she arrived, falling in a breathless sleep. Piles of books threatened to break down her bedside table and a small wick was melted over the sheets of a newspaper. A pen lay on the floor, weeping silently its painful destiny of being crushed under a maiden's hardened foot.

The sun tried shining shyly through her window, but Mary muttered something inaudible, moving her hand in the air as if wiping all light away and the sun cowered in his sheets once more.

She had no plan of waking up any time soon.

* * *

The plot of land in the back garden was not to be attempted, even if it was easier to pass through there in order to get to town. So much snow had fallen from the branches of the trees as well that Mr. Bennet groaned inwardly at the exertion needed to clean the path.

The climate was changing or was he growing older and older? Perhaps both. He looked forward to his daughter's wedding, for, no matter how much he disagreed with Mrs. Bennet's schemes of matches, he could only admit that he felt relieved to know Kitty secure. He trusted the Colonel and admired his modest, yet dignified position. He would tutor his daughter in lessons of life only a husband could give. However, if she was anything like her mother, no teaching would brush off on her.

He sighed. Sighing was taking most of his time, as of late.

'George! George! Come here,' he yelled for one of his hay workers.

'Mr. Bennet, can I be of any use?' Roberta asked as her head popped out of the larder.

'You can tell me where your slothful boy is, Roberta, my dear.'

'Oh, Georgie…he's just run off to town. Told me he had an errand,' she said coyly.

'I see…an errand…perhaps he thought he should plump a lady's carriage cushion. He is so very fond of doing that.'

'Oh, Sir, I shall give him a thrashing, yes Sir, I will…' Roberta replied flustered.

'Oh, do not trouble yourself, woman, it is but natural for a young man not to stay put. Call Joe and his brother to give me a hand with the garden path.'

'Certainly, Sir.'

Mrs. Bennet had listened carefully to all their conversation as she stood by the window, trying to patch one of her shawls. The parlour looked considerably pretty and well-kept, though a large amount of dust still reigned over the room. No one took notice of it and only Kitty sometimes opened a window.

'Your father should stop being amenable to such fellows…I swear, that George is a rotten apple for this family.'

'Perhaps…in any case, he's not the only one. Papa wastes all too much kindness and pennies on many of them,' Lydia spoke bored as she bit into her apple.

'Ah, you've grown so beautiful, my dear, you're blooming,' Mrs. Bennet spoke affectionately. 'The child you are bearing is doing wonders.'

'I haven't yet been witness to one,' she replied somewhat caustically. 'Kitty, are you ready?'

Her scream broke the dreary silence of the house. Mrs. Bennet looked expectantly at the stairs.

'Not yet, I will be down shortly!' they heard her almost expletive reply.

'Ah, a visit shall do us good, I am thoroughly pleased with Mrs. Lucas being so interested in the wedding, no matter how jealous and bitter she might be, poor creature.'

'She's a fool, to want her daughter to marry a petty Colonel.'

'Better than nothing, darling, trust me, some get quite desperate at one point. It is crucial that such allowances are made.'

'A woman should know dignity,' she scoffed.

'If only more thought like you, Lydia dear, but…we cannot expect so of our neighbours.'

Kitty walked down at that moment, fidgeting with her woollen bonnet.

'It's quite ugly…must I wear it, mama?'

'Kitty, how could you ask me this? Certainly you will, do you wish to catch pneumonia and lie in bed for your wedding? Heaven, no.'

'I suppose that is not a pleasant option…is Mary coming as well?'

'Oh, she is not up to it, she said,' Lydia replied.

'Well, of course she is not…sitting up there, sleeping the entire day and reading all sorts of odd things that put schemes in her head. I declare, she hasn't gone out in a week.'

'Sounds as if she's not well,' Kitty spoke unsure.

'Pshaw, it is not that, I checked on her, she is perfectly well, but she has taken to such an idle side…'

'Well, then, let her be, she'll come around, let us go now, before we are too late,' Lydia interfered impatiently.

* * *

Mary watched the carriage depart with a pleased sigh. The grounds were white, white and faultless, daintily calling her outside, but she had no taste for it. She looked around her room. So many books opened at different pages, some on her bed, some on the floor…perhaps it was a truthful statement that she was idle. At least she was a witty idler. Her black-raven hair stuck out from all places and she smiled as she saw her slight reflection in a small mirror.

'What could happen today?' she wondered. She felt like reading Dryden, but then it seemed to be a Jonathan Swift day…oh, how tedious!

It had been almost a month since their departure. Three letters from Georgiana were carefully placed under her mattress. All good greetings from her and wishes of being reunited at the wedding, but nothing else of any considerable importance. It was to be noted that she was getting on better terms with her brother, but no apparent improvement had taken place. Lizzie was probably at loggerheads with both of them at times, but such were the trials of a true mistress.

Georgiana had asked for her immediate reply, concerning her attire for the wedding, the occupations she has taken to, the news from Netherfield, news from the Colonel, but Mary, in all this time, had only ventured to write her a small epistle containing only such odd remarks as "I do hope winter lasts for another summer or so" or "A friend is needed in times when books become dusty".

She knew this sort of behaviour would only put her friend out of sorts, but she couldn't help it. Every new day she told herself she'd start anew, with a strict schedule, but she always slept till lunch time and stayed up well past midnight.

'Time for a bite to eat…' she muttered to herself. Pulling her already dishevelled hair in a messy bun she went downstairs, to steal some leftovers from lunch.

As she tiptoed through the kitchen she was called by one of the maids.

'Missus, a letter for ye,' she said bowing as the letter lay placed on a small tray.

Mary took it carelessly and hoped Georgiana would not be too appalled and scandalised by her previous letter.

It was from Mr. Fowler. Her eyes widened and remained so as she tried reading the small writing.

_What does he want now?_

_Dear Miss Bennet, _

_I am writing to enquire of your health and state of mind, for I have not heard of you for quite a while, nor did I receive any news of you from any of your friends or relatives. I was considerably uneasy. Fortunately, Mr. Darcy was kind enough to notice my distress and gave me your address, in order to call your attention directly. _

_I hope this isn't too bold of me, but it has been more than a month and I was growing worried. I hope our affairs have remained as they should be and that you have not exacted any kind of act against Miss Anne, after the telling of my previous letter. Perhaps she is faultless and I was the only heathen, a heathen who still seeks redemption. Every day I suffer the dull reprimands of my acts, believe me. _

_I eagerly hope your heart has softened a bit and that you are not in such pain anymore, not so angry wi__th this poor, foolish man that I am. Again, I am ready to accept that you will not reply to my letter, yet I do hope you shall address me at least some feeble lines, concerning your welfare. _

_Sincerely, _

_Harold Fowler_

'All this man does is to hope…' she mumbled. 'Oh well.'

She rubbed her eyes listlessly and dropped the letter in a sack of debris from the workers, hidden in the corner.

As she looked out the window she suddenly felt a wave of energy. She didn't know if it was caused by the letter, but, seeing her father trying hard to clear up the garden, she smiled knowingly and putting on a woollen coat, came out to help him.

'Mary, dear, what on Earth are you doing out on this weather?'

'I came to lend a hand,' she said cheerfully as she snatched one of the trowels next to the shed.

The trees bowed politely at her presence as her father steadied himself against the trunk of a birch.

'I never thought you to enjoy such labour…'

'On the contrary…' she muttered as she pulled her sleeves and started digging out the sugary snow.

'Is there something wrong, Mary? Maybe you should go back inside.'

'Not at all, I needed some exercise, this air does me quite well.'

Mr. Bennet only smiled and continued to puff from his pipe.

'Your mother…we'll surely never hear the end of this one…'

'Well, let her then,' she said invigorated as she went on with her work.

* * *

'What in God's name is she doing?' Mrs. Bennet almost shrieked as she noticed the slight figure of Mary, covered in snow.

'Oh, goodness, is she digging?' Lydia asked disgusted. 'How very provincial. Is it not?'

'Well, she was mentioning changing her range of activities…' Kitty said as she got out of the carriage.

'How discrepant! Mary Bennet you come here this instant!' Mrs. Bennet yelled.

Mary turned her eyes towards her mother and sighed.

'Let her be, woman, she is helping me,' Mr. Bennet tried unsure.

'Aha! So it was you who decided to make a mockery of this doleful daughter and bid her stand shamelessly in the garden, working like a peasant.'

'No, mama, I simply needed a change of air…' she mumbled meekly.

'Not a word from you! Get inside this instant and take a bath before I throw you in the lake this instant.'

'The snow is clean, mama.'

'So you'd rather be a mucky child?' she inquired angrily. As she came closer her eyes widened. 'What on Earth have you done with your hair? And you come out with such attire...'

Lydia stifled her giggles as she entered the parlour followed by a somewhat distressed Kitty.

'What if there isn't enough time?' she asked worried.

'And what is your care, sister? We shall find you a wedding dress…we shall go into town even morrow if be needed.'

'Very well, but I am sure it will be so crowded and we shall find nothing.'

'Oh, stop your lamenting,_ I_ did not have such a splendid wedding dress myself, I had to suffer the _wretches_ of this modest article which could barely enlighten my warm complexion. You will be lucky, father has money to spend on such a…_fortunate_ wedding.'

'What ever do you mean?'

Mary soon followed them, Mrs. Bennet quickly marching beside her.

'And I will have you go upstairs right now and put on something decent! Up, up you go!'

'Oh, dear Mary, are you trying to tempt one of the hay workers? George is in town, if so you wish to know,' Lydia replied cheekily.

Mary blushed furiously and was ready to throw her an icy reply when Mrs. Bennet interrupted flustered.

'You should know better than that, Mary, always make yourself presentable. Who knows what chances there are in the world?'

Mary held back a breath and nodding slowly climbed to her room.

* * *

'Oh, but it is only fair! Listen to him, poor soul, he misses me so!' Kitty bellowed fluttering the letter in front of her mother's eyes. The table shook as she sat down again.

The light was dim, but one could notice the faces were all quite listless and impassive, no one had any enthusiasm, not a single reason of true joy.

The only exception was Kitty who was exerting herself beyond reason, grieving for the Colonel who had written her a most distressing letter begging her to "be by my side soon, or I shall sink in a wretched torment".

'Kitty, it is horribly improper to see him before the wedding.'

'How do you mean? We shall see each other only when we meet at church?'

'Quite so, it is only protocol, why, your father and I did not much see of each other until we married.'

'And now we perceive the consequences of that…' Mary spoke silently, but no one heard her.

Mr. Bennet scratched his chin pensively, sipping from his old cup of wine. He was slightly worried that Kitty's dowry would be quite frugal. From all his adding and multiplying, he could make out a pretty sum for her as well. Trouble was, with Lydia on their hands again, it would be much harder to provide for her as well.

He was sure Lydia had spent all the money she and Wickham had held in possession and feared to make her responsible for one single penny.

'Mama, I entreat you, it is absolutely heinous!'

'Heinous or not, you shall respect the rules of conduct…it is for the best, my dear.'

'Come now, Kitty, there will be enough affection to be given at the nuptials, you shall compensate for these many days in agony.'

Mary and Mrs. Bennet both choke on their food as they glanced at Lydia incredulously.

Mr. Bennet had let this proof of indolence slip, as he was completely immersed in his own thoughts, but Kitty blushed so hard that even her grey dress turned crimson. She buried her head in her bosom and did not say one more word.

'Lydia, dear…how good of you to…support your sister. However, there are more important things to consider than the Colonel. After all, Netherfield Hall will need great preparations to be ready for such event. The Darcys and the Bingleys will be there, it must look worthy of such guests.'

'Dear woman, those are your relatives you speak of,' Mr. Bennet replied amused.

'And what of it? We can show them the Bennets are capable of throwing grand, opulent Balls as well. Anything for our daughter…we cannot simply let it go to waste. And to think that only some time ago Jane met Mr. Bingley there...'

'The place shall be marked with our name forever,' Lydia said bored.

'Now, I've talked things over with Mrs. Lucas and she suggested that we hire four couches for our neighbouring guests, for the rest of them can just come by their own means, I certainly shan't busy myself for them all.'

'Sounds quite sensible…' Mr. Bennet mumbled absently.

'Also, she mentioned using only partially silver china, since no one will take much notice of it, everyone will be too occupied with the newly weds,' she spoke excited. 'So we can put the silverware only at the first two tables, of the groom and bride and their families.'

'Quite tartly, if you ask me…' Kitty finally spoke crossed.

'Do you have a better suggestion, Kitty, dear?'

'Yes, let us invite the Colonel for a family dinner, before the wedding,' she said rapidly.

'Oh, how improper, Kitty! Who has ever heard of such a thing? A dinner before the wedding? Certainly not.'

'Then I shall not help at all with the ceremony…'

'Oh, that reminds me, we must rush to town immediately for the dress…'

'I've been meaning to say that, mama,' Lydia said drowsily as she swallowed another spoonful of food.

Mary looked down at the letter in her hands. She considered adding one more line when she went up to her room.

_Thus, Georgiana, my mother and sisters argue incessantly over this obnoxious event which has turned into a race for lavish…rather than a triumph of love._

* * *

_Dear Miss Bennet,_

_Another three weeks have passed until I last wrote to you and it is dawning close on spring, though but middle of February yet. I say so for my own lands show signs of revival, of such sweet joy dedicated to the glowing sun, bearing its light stronger each day._

_I was quite worried and hoped you had perhaps written to me a line and I should not have received it, a thing which would have distre-…_

Mary crumpled the paper and tried to bend it in order to make those beautiful shapes she had seen Lizzie do at times. Some resembled a swan, others a sparrow, others a rabbit, others a peacock. But she had no talent for origami. In the end, she only obtained a small ball of parchment.

She opened her window and threw it out, watching it fly briefly in the wind before falling on the slushy ground.

'Hm…not very aerodynamic…'

* * *

'Oh, no, quite distasteful thing! My bridesmaids must look their best, Mary, do please try to find something better.'

'We have been in this damned shop for more than four hours and Lydia has not even decided on the shoes,' she spoke grimly. 'Do you know how much time we've wasted on all this?'

'I don't want to know, some things must be done, Mary. No matter how tedious.'

'Like marrying? I suppose so.'

Kitty hit her playfully on the shoulder. 'Stop mocking me, I derive no joy from this if the Colonel is not here…'

She looked out the window. The shop was half-full, the streets were hollow as she watched some ironmongers trying to lift a cart full of old horseshoes.

Life was dreary outside a shop. The air was still.

'Now, really, slip out of that dull blue thing,' Kitty spoke again.

'Very well then, but don't think I will find something better…' she said languidly trying to get up from her chair.

'Mary! Come quickly and aid me pull this dress…Quick! It's stuck!' Lydia called angrily and her sister could only comply.

When she arrived at the far end of the shop she saw Lydia bellowing at another lady who was eagerly trying to prove a point.

'I saw it first, it is mine and I shall wear it!'

'My dear lady, it does not even fit you, one should not wear such tight things when bearing…'

'Mary, come here this instant and help me do it up! I will prove to you I can fit in any dress with little effort.'

Poor Lydia was trying to squeeze into an awful yellow satin dress, exorbitant in price and tasteless in design.

* * *

"_It was only three nights ago that I saw Theodore for the last time. He had to leave, for it was dangerous to remain, so he will depart once more. I cannot expect him to return in another two weeks as he usually does, this time he will not be able. His sister is terribly ill and I fear that poor creature will expire and he shall blame himself eternally for it…and I as well. For believe me, I do understand I might be a cause of distress…but I am quite selfish, I admit. He is such a wonderful human being, so desirous to make me happy!  
It saddens me so that no one but you can know of him and no one but I must suffer for his leave…"_

Mary reread Georgiana's letter and her eyes remained stuck on this paragraph which could only make her uneasy. Was her friend encouraging the young man too much? Was she forming such schemes in her head that were only…illusions? She couldn't know, she could not yet judge and this lack of knowledge troubled Mary. Usually, she could form an opinion of the situation, but now everything was in a blur and she loathed the fact that she couldn't aid her companion. It also bothered her that Mr. Darcy was so ignorant of his sister's infatuation and she didn't think Theodore was quite trustworthy yet.

As she blew her candle the feeble stars illuminated her small corner. The weather had improved, the night was sweeter to bear. She lay awaken, eyes wide open, pondering whether tomorrow would be as dreadful as the day that had passed.

Perhaps not. Surely, her sister's wedding would be joyous, she told herself.

Tomorrow, Kitty would cease to be a Bennet. What a sad feeling erupted in her heart, she would lose a sister. It never really hit her that she'd remain alone, with Lydia as companion, but as the thought finally started to sink in she couldn't help but groan in agony.

Mary considered Lizzie and Jane had already arrived and were staying in town, for there weren't enough rooms in the house to receive them all properly. Georgiana was not very far from her, but this last letter, made her feel she was a thousand miles away.

She chuckled when she considered Mrs. Bennet had envisaged a dinner after the wedding, inviting all the family, yet even she admitted her dining room could never endure such a feat. Neither could she.

She imagined the Colonel walking up and down his room at this moment, alert and restless, fidgeting carelessly with his cuffs as he wiped his sweat. For a brief moment, she feared Mr. Fowler had come as well. The terror was not slight, Mary shook her head in disbelief and remembered she had not even opened the fourth letter he had sent her.

Such were the thoughts occupying her mind, not letting her shut an eye, not letting her be at rest.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Well, this chapter was slightly difficult to write, since I do not know much of weddings in the 19th century, except for what I could select from novels I've read and the internet. It was before the Victorian era so the wedding gowns weren't white, but beyond that...I hope I didn't make any obvious, embarrassing mistakes with the customs. If I did, please excuse them and tell me so I can correct them as much as I can. The entire wedding will take actually two chapters (I could make it one but it would be too long and it's not necessary). Hope you like it. **_

Chapter 17: A Fair Wedding part I

It was barely four o' clock in the morning when Mrs. Bennet, with all lack of courtesy, pushed open the door of her daughter's room and instantly went over to her drawer to inspect the new gown. It had not cost much, but she valued all new garments dearly, thus she was quite displeased to find it had a crease or two.

She wasted no time in pulling the curtains and Mary's quilt off of her and bursting into clamorous vociferation about Roberta's insolence for not being already awake to join the maids and cooks at Netherfield Hall.

'Now get up this instant, young lady! We shall not be late on the cause of you, Mary, heavens no! I know you are the idlest one, I know it. And I shall prevent you from sleeping about. You will go and wash your face, then you shall come and scrub your boots one more time. After that you shall comb your hair and clean your ribbons one more time, I think they do not seem as handsome as they should, you should have kept them in some pieces of cloth. You also shall make sure to wait for me to help you get into the gown without tearing it apart as I know you have a knack for. But above all, you must make yourself useful to the bride, so make haste and do as I say.'

Mary Bennet stood in front of her, shivering and coughing loudly as she hugged her feeble frame, covered only by her long, white nightgown. She felt very tired and sleepy and could barely look up at her mother. She grimaced when she considered that, in order to wash herself she had to go down to the lavatory, where it was always freezing. No matter her own concerns, she thought more of Kitty. If anyone should be distressed, it was her. Mary knew that her mother kept the bride in much stricter tones, yet at this early hour she could feel no pity.

After such a brutal awakening she discovered the rest of the house was still quiet and asleep, or so it seemed from the shut doors and impenetrable silence.

The only sounds were coming from her room, where Mrs. Bennet was busying herself with her clothes.

Little did she suspect what was taking course in the other part of the house. Kitty had not shut an eye all night and was consequently lamenting and ejaculating odd expletives as she paced the room up and down. She had done so for many hours, hence and for a while now, she had woken up Lydia as well who had added more to her distress by tormenting her with prognostics of the coming wedding.

'You don't know what men really want, Kitty. Your dear Colonel is no better than the rest. He will soon claim only what a woman is best at and that is giving them child over child until they will get tired of their yells and damn them all to hell.'

Kitty did not much listen to her, but could guess Lydia was not giving her sisterly advice by the look she had on her face. Instead she simply stared blindly into space as she fastened her pace. Her hands were intertwined as if she was praying and each time she crossed the room she looked over at her blue wedding gown, scowling.

'The dress doesn't fit me, I've told them that a week ago, but they will not have it. They seem to think I need not breathe when I walk to the pulpit. If that is their wish, maybe I shouldn't go at all. Maybe I should just stay home, the wedding must not necessarily come to be. After all, everything is so rushed and senseless.'

'I believe the dress to be very fine and I do think the Colonel will like it also,' Lydia teased as she lay in her bed, tired from so much talking. 'You've bothered me so much I cannot even say anything anymore, I wish to sleep, now hush you silly girl.'

'Sleep? Are you mad? How can you sleep? It's time to get up and get dressed, it's already past four. Do you want the Colonel to get upset and put everything off? I tell you he will when he notices I am not at the church on time. Maybe I shouldn't marry at all.'

'Splendid, excellent idea, but I wouldn't advise you to tell it to mama, or anyone else for that matter, I'll even join you in your elopement if you but allow me some minutes of rest.

'I shall elope! I swear I shall…'

She was interrupted from these impetuous declarations by her mother entering quietly.

'Kitty, dear? You're awake? What in the world… did you get enough rest? What are you doing, tiring yourself so, sit down! I heard you talking with your sister, is Lydia keeping you up?'

'How preposterous, mama! When she has been the sole cause…' Lydia started flustered.

'Oh, hush now, you need to get dressed soon, anyway. Your father barely paid any attention to me when I suffered him to prepare the carriage in time. He insisted that he had settled this yesterday with Mr. Brown, but I think one of the horses might have gotten a cold from this dreadful thawing weather, or one of the wheels broke down what with all our journeys. I really despise this weather, heavens, why was it decided to marry now? April would have been such a favourable month, but Colonel Fitzwilliam would not hear of it. What a hasty man, indeed!'

'April? Why, mama, no one would have waited until then, it is best this way for we shall take a trip to Bath after the wedding and it will be just in time for early spring, when nature is most kind in her beauties,' Kitty spoke agitated.

'A trip to Bath? How delightful, young brides always favour sea air,' Lydia spoke mockingly.

'Simply because Mr. Wickham never had the opportunity to take _you_ there, that doesn't mean…'

'_Mr_. Wickham and I travelled across England in hardship _and_ happiness more than _you_ will ever know, since we had not such flimsy arrangements and such foreseen luck,' she spoke harshly. 'What is more, Bath has long lost its charm or any beauty it once possessed since so many walks of people now crowd it. The Pump Rooms are full of spinsters and their hag mothers.'

'There will be time to discuss such things later, all in its rightful time, our concern now is the wedding feast. I simply know there will be some ladies who will show complaint…nothing like the standards of Pemberley or Kent, but we'll show them when we have such a pretty bride,' Mrs. Bennet said encouragingly.

Lydia was made to get up and assist with dressing, much to her joy as she complained the baby was taking so much of her spirits that she could hardly breathe. Kitty managed to let out some hysterical nonsense, once in a while, but she made no comment when Lydia pulled her hair too hard. It all seemed a very terrible, sweet dream to her, which would end very soon and she did not know if she preferred it so or not. She loved the Colonel, but marriage involved much more than that, she told herself. Marriage was wisdom, commitment, poise and delicacy and she was wanting in all that. She almost managed to laugh when she considered Mary had all those qualities.

Her anxiousness was half excitement as she expected to have ample wedding cake and many dances to attend with her groom. She enjoyed being in the centre of attention and today everyone would be made to give her their utmost concern, therefore, she couldn't help feeling happy at those prospects.

'You'll take a bath right away, Mary is using the lavatory down stairs. It's very cold there, anyway, you mustn't catch a cold,' Mrs. Bennet said as she opened the door for one of the maids to enter.

She had brought a pot full of hot water from the kitchen and was currently filling the basin in the lavatory with it.

'But won't Mary come down with illness then?' asked Kitty.

'Nonsense, she's as strong as an ox, it's you who has to walk up to the altar. Lydia, you'll follow next, now help me untie these ribbons and where are the shoes?'

'Must I do everything around here?' she wailed sleepily.

'The maid is bathing Kitty, you know there's no time to waste.'

'Fine then, but don't expect me to kneel too much, I can't bow down, what with the baby.'

Catherine lay in the basin, sprawling her legs in the water. She felt pleased and she wanted to lie there for ever, getting out meant she had to get dressed, go out in the cold, leave her childhood home and never return.

'Missus is upset, I see…' the maid spoke shyly.

'No, Louise, only a bit frightened. You've been married once, haven't you?'

'Aye, missus…it was a sad business…m'fellow was taken with hay fever and passed away in a year, he was weak, ye see. Not like the Colonel, he's a steady man.'

'I hope so… Do you miss him?'

'Only sometimes, missus. I got enough work, though, to keep me busy.'

'That's…that's good to hear.'

'Oh, remember to step with your right foot in the church, missus.'

'Why should I do that?'

'My poor mum said it brought luck and children in a marriage.'

Kitty blushed slightly and turned her head away as water splashed her hair.

Half an hour had passed, but Lydia had already left the room, leaving her mother in charge of Catherine as she rushed to the kitchen, feeling a sudden urge to eat bread and butter. Mrs. Bennet had allowed her to go, blaming her pregnancy for all these fits.

Poor Roberta had already departed with Joe in the hackney, for nothing else was available and both were rushing to Netherfield Hall, therefore the kitchen was devoid of all movement, but for Lydia's quiet wanderings.

She sliced the bread and started searching for the butter.

'Perhaps I'll take some potatoes too…' she murmured as she saw a large sack in one corner. She inspected it but found it to be full of debris.

'George still hasn't taken this out! I'll be sure to pull his ears for this.'

A sparkle of white caught her eye and as she dug deeper in the sack she discovered a piece of paper. It was the first letter Mr. Fowler had sent to Longbourn. Seeing as it was addressed to her sister, she made no shame in reading it. As her eyes went over the contents, a small grin appeared at the corner of her mouth.

'Well, well…and here I thought Mary was quite miserable, seems I had another thing coming.'

She placed the letter in the folds of her dress and only took two large slices of bread with her before going back upstairs.

* * *

'Suck it up!' Lydia snapped at her as she tied her corset.

'I can't anymore, I can't breathe!"

'You'll have to bear it!' she said pulling hard.

'Kitty, dear, it's not every day one wears a wedding gown.'

'Does it deserve so much pain?' she said through breaths as she steadied her hands on the dressing table. Louise was arranging her hem and giving the shoes another polish.

Though Lydia had refused to bow at her sister's feet she had gladly received the task of dressing her. She was enjoying hearing Kitty whine under her hold too much to actually consider she was no better than Louise.

'Now I'll go wake your father again, he had fallen asleep when I last saw him. I'll come back to fix her hair,' Mrs. Bennet said, leaving the chamber.

Mr. Bennet sat in the parlour with the newspaper in his lap and a cup of coffee. He rarely indulged himself in a cup of such beverage, but it would do this morning. He always drank coffee when his daughters got married.

He had been rudely woken up by his wife and made to go down immediately, dressed in such stiff clothes that he was only glad his duty was just to walk Kitty to the altar. His wife instructed him to leave for the carriage whenever she called. By now, the light from outside had brightened the house and he could distinguish the maids running all about.

He heard steps and when he turned, Mr. Bennet saw a figure in the hall. It was one of his daughters and when she came closer he realised it was Mary.

She was wearing two shawls spread over her shoulders, yet she was still shivering in her lavender gown. The cold bath she had taken would surely not wear off until she was safely deposited by the fireplace. Luckily, she had taught herself with such baths from an early age, in fact, she always preferred them, since she believed they did well for her heart, or so she had read in one of her father's books.

Now, however, knowing she would have to bear the coldness in the church as well, she couldn't help pulling her shawls tighter.

'Good morning father,' she said smiling. 'Odd to see you here, dressed so formally. And drinking coffee…'

He grinned and put the cup down as he bade her sit down next to him.

'Good? For Heaven's sake, did you not encounter your mother?'

'I did, but I had less to bear. Kitty, poor creature, on the other hand…'

'She probably thinks now a bride's destiny is a very sorrow one.'

'Trust Catherine not to be morose for too long, though.'

'Fortunately for her, she loves her husband. That, my dear, is quite rare and wonderful, these days. And to think Jane and Elizabeth have the same affection for their men. In my young day there was no dreaming of it. Affection was acquired after the reverend united the man and wife's hands. I am glad to see some things do improve in England.'

Mary smiled as she pointed at the newspaper.

'But I see the war has improved as well. Napoleon was defeated at the Battle of Laon, in France. It's only a matter of time before Duke Wellington manages to bring victory home, once and for all.'

'I agree, the war shall end very soon, in some months I hope…perhaps then Mr. Bingley will have more luck with business.'

'Surely, commerce will improve. We will have the west side free to export.'

'True…such things haven't bothered me so, for I am not what you'd call a business man. However, the war has not struck our region as much as it has affected others. In fact, some are quite unaware why we are still fighting. In any case, we have not felt any changes, it has been well in our neighbourhood.'

'Fortunately. I always had a pessimistic take to the war, but now I must admit for hope to enter my heart.'

'And you do well. I remember you quite admired that fellow Napoleon.'

'I did when he was sensible enough not to try and attack the East. After that, my sympathy paled.'

'But look at us, how we talk of war when your sister is about to get married.'

'There's no harm in it, we are discussing stately affairs. One should be aware of the situation in one's country and I always took pride in the fact that I knew what was happening.'

'Though not much can be predicted, mind you, this is a very moody country we have. I am not a Tory, goodness sake, no. However, I am sure they will have something to say about all this. Even if the war is at an end, I believe the last months will be the bloodiest. Oh, but such subjects really spoil my coffee, let us talk of something else.'

'What else could we talk of papa?' she asked eagerly. She enjoyed conversations with her father, because he treated her as an equal and this couldn't have been said of all men.

'Well, how do you feel, Mary, as the last Miss Bennet left?' he asked smirking.

She frowned and folded her arms in a gesture of uneasiness.

'I didn't think of it that way. I mostly worried I'd be left only with Lydia.'

'Consider this too then…if someone should call "Miss Bennet!" you'd know now they could only mean you.'

'And that should please me?'

'Well, you won't be confused with your sisters anymore.'

'Do you consider that truly possible?' she said smirking.

'Mary! Mr. Bennet! Talking idly again! What in Lord's name are you doing there? I called you three times!'

Mrs. Bennet's yells could pierce anyone's ears, no matter how thick the skin. She shot daggers at them from the landing, yielding what seemed to be a comb.

'Mary, you look like a prudish hag with those shawls, put on your coat and bonnet. Mr. Bennet do get up and get the carriage ready, you can't sit there all day!'

'You almost had me tempted woman…' he mumbled as he got up without another word and left the room.

'And where do you think you're going?' Mrs. Bennet called as she climbed down, panting for breath.

'To get my bonnet in the hall…'

'Come here, let me inspect your hair,' she said coldly. Mary sighed but politely obeyed, stepping towards her mother.

'Ha! And you expect me to let you go out with that bun? Did you even bother combing for a change?'

'There's no time…' Mary started.

'Oh, yes there is, up this instant,' she ordained as she took her by the elbow and climbed up the stairs.

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked out the window at the clouded sky unsure. The weather didn't look any better today than it had the previous weeks, but it was obvious it was warmer outside. The streets were congested with carts and many a shouts could be heard from below. It seemed a horse had sprained his ankle and had fallen in the middle of the road, causing the coach it was driving to stop and a lot of people to gather round. The entire street was blocked.

'See down there…will they hold it up when we go down too?' he asked worried.

Mr. Bingley came behind his shoulder and smiled at the crowd.

'Not if we can manage to break them apart. I'd worry more about the weather, if I were you.'

'It won't rain at your wedding, that's for sure,' added Mr. Darcy smiling as he put the cup of tea down. He had abandoned his newspaper and was now walking about the room.

'How do you know, Darcy?' asked the Colonel.

'I had a discussion with Eol and Selene, they said they would guard the waters and let only sunshine fall upon earth.'

'So be it…then again, rain predicts merriment. Well, I suppose we shall see.'

The room was well lit by an oil lamp, but enough light came from outside in a stream of hazy rays.

Colonel Fitzwilliam brushed his coat and peered into the small mirror on the coffee table. He thought he looked well enough, not his best, what with all the stress, but fairly handsome.

'Stop looking in the vanity glass already! You look as pretty as a picture,' Mr. Bingley said mockingly. 'All you need now is a bride.'

'Well, I see you're in high spirits Charles, I suppose Mrs. Bingley is doing well?' he asked in order to change the subject.

'Oh, she looks even prettier with child, I declare I haven't seen such colour in her cheeks for ages.'

'Though I believe you are more delighted with your shipment of cloth that can be soon sent out at sea. Many a fellow is more optimistic these days…it's not 1813 anymore, after all,' added Mr. Darcy.

'You make it sound as if I am a materialistic sod with nothing else on my mind than money,' Charles replied amused.

'I am merely being realistic. By the by, is Mr. Prowler coming at the wedding?'

'James? Oh, that can't be sure and I tend to think he shan't make it,' said Charles sitting down. 'London is in a fury right now, bankruptcy after bankruptcy if you can imagine. He cannot even spare a moment to breathe, he has a great many problems to deal with.'

'Oh…I regret to hear that, I had meant to talk to him again on that business of ours, I cannot tardy too much with it and I was hoping to receive some piece of information from him.'

'Not to worry, Darcy, he has promised to help and believe me, one of his priorities is your case,' Charles assured him.

'Oh, not again, enough of you two, no talking of such things on my wedding day of all days!' the Colonel chided them chuckling.

'I'd better go see how Lizzie and Georgiana are doing,' Darcy added after a while and he politely left the room.

* * *

'Now, if you could be so kind to move a bit faster, we would be there on time!' Lydia yelled at the top of the stairs.

'Could you be so kind as to restrain those shouts?' Mary asked calmly as she hurried downstairs.

'Ah, finally grew a tongue, Mary?' Lydia asked pursing her lips.

'Any time for you, dearest sister, but you'd better go to the carriage yourself, rather than make so much noise.'

Not letting her reply, Mary took her hand and dragged her out of the house, in the seeping coldness. A cold sun was throwing its rays their way, but clouds threatened to cover up every bit of warmth.

'I can't go with this bonnet, I need my new one, stop it Mary,' she whined.

'You'll come with me and stop making such noise, tighten that shawl and get inside,' she said as kind as possible as they saw their father leaning against the wheels of the vehicle.

Lydia might have been quite an impossible girl to manage, but Mary was two years older and she did not let her forget that fact. After all, as of now she was in charge of her. The youngest sister muttered under her breath for a while, but feeling the wind blow under her coat she hurried into the carriage. However, before shutting the door she turned towards her sister.

'You look very pretty, Mary, it must be a special occasion, are you expecting to see someone at the feast?'

Mary frowned and ignored her sister's silly grin as she shut the door.

_Wicked Lydia…_

She considered this adjective suited her best sometimes.

'Dear me, your mother made all the fuss about not being tardy, but she is taking all her time with Kitty,' Mr. Bennet said as he called his wife.

At length the front door was opened harshly and an angry Mrs. Bennet came out, tying her bonnet.

'Well, of course you call and call, Mr. Bennet, but are you of any help?'

'I only wish to leave faster, my dear,' he said opening the door for her.

'As if I could rush things! I had to do everything, Louise is quite incompetent at times, luckily, I've had much more experience at this. And look! The carriage isn't clean, why it's as dirty as a pig sty. Mr. Bennet, do you think we can go to church in that?'

'We have no choice woman.'

'And it's just as bad we are in want of a second carriage. It's only the right custom for the father to come with the bride in a different vehicle, now we all have to squirm in this one and I am sure her wedding gown will have to suffer.'

'If you have a better solution Mrs. Bennet…' Mr. Bennet started annoyed whilst his wife helped Catherine hold her veil as she stepped out.

'Open the doors, Sir, the bride must go first,' she spoke solemnly and Kitty, who looked as white as a tombstone, trembled slightly as she climbed into the carriage. She looked radiant, anyone could see that, but she couldn't smile or show any sign of happiness.

Mary was not worried, though. Jane had been the same tormented creature on her wedding day. Lydia clicked her tongue displeased every time she looked at Kitty, noting that her dress was obviously more expensive than hers had been when she had wed Wickham.

She also could not deny she looked the prettiest of them all, at the moment, for which, Mrs. Bennet gave only herself credit and admired her boisterously.

'Now, when we are close to the church I want you girls,' she started pointing at Mary and Lydia, 'to get down before we reach the front and follow me inside. Your father and Kitty need to wait until they are called for.'

_Only we are capable of these schemes…_Mary thought amused.

'But we mustn't run or rush, otherwise our neighbours will think of all sort of bad things, especially since you are the maids of honour.'

The ride seemed interminable to all of them, but most bore it well until they reached the turn in the street from where they could see the steeples.

At length, after much chaos and trouble, Mrs. Bennet and her two single daughters arrived at the church safe and sound, their dresses not slighted one bit and Mrs. Bennet rushed to find her seat in the front row where she expected to see Jane and Lizzie, as well as Mrs. Carter, Colonel Fitzwilliam's sister, who came from France and planned on staying for at least a fortnight longer. I have not mentioned this sister to you, dear reader, because she is only half-sister to this respectable man. It so happened that Colonel Fitzwilliam's father remarried after the death of his first wife, with whom he had his son; the child that came from the second marriage married a merchant from Lion who was English of origins.

Mrs. Blanche Carter scarcely ever visited her brother, because she considered her situation in the society of France much above the mere existence of "my dear little soldier", as she called him. His retirement from the militia was seen by her as an act of cowardice and foolishness, but now that he was entering into such a family connected to the Darcys, she had a change of heart and decided to attend the event.

Mrs. Bennet had heard little of her, but she was always infatuated with anything foreign, so she priced this lady beyond her real attributes and forced herself to seem just as dignified as she was, since she was the mother of the bride.

Lizzie and Jane both looked wonderful in their satin dresses and welcomed their mother with fondness, whilst Mrs. Carter only nodded her head and replied that her brother had told her all she needed to know of the Bennets.

'Ah, but you haven't met my Kitty, you shall see, madam, you will adore her, I say there hasn't been such a pretty bride in the Shire for long.'

'I believe she is pretty, my brother wouldn't have married someone plain,' she said saucily.

'But where is Mr. Carter, madam? We were all quite anxious to see him, weren't we?'

'I'm afraid his health didn't allow him to travel, but he trusts me to manage on my own,' she said, implying she did not mean to add more, no matter how curious Mrs. Bennet might be.

'Oh, look Jane, Lizzie dear, Mary and Lydia should walk up any minute, they both look quite presentable, don't they?'

'And I believe Lydia tormented herself greatly to fit into that yellow gown,' Lizzie whispered to Jane.

'Ah,' Mrs. Carter exclaimed as she turned her head and noticed the two girls standing near the usher, 'I see, that is Mrs. Wickham, your pregnant daughter. She is not yet seventeen, is she?'

'Why, no madam, she married very young, but had many troubles,' spoke Mrs. Bennet coyly.

'Perhaps she shouldn't have been encouraged to give herself so freely. Mr. Carter's sister, Mrs. Durant, a model of propriety and good breadth, told me that young women should not attempt to be mothers until after the age of one and twenty. That is the way in France.'

'I see, I suppose our sister is very unfortunate then, Mrs. Carter,' Lizzie replied put out. Jane only looked away embarrassed, for she had just turned that same age.

'Have you travelled all alone, Mrs. Carter?' Mrs. Bennet asked trying to make herself amiable.

'Not at all, I came with my dear niece, Miss Durant, she is now in Exeter, however. She had to attend to the bed of a very good friend of hers, I am afraid that young man is very ill and she is his only hope. I have never met a kinder creature than she is, she would not leave his side, not even for a wedding.'

This interesting dialogue was, however, interrupted as everyone was called in, for the ceremony to start, but Mrs. Bennet made a note to inquire more of this Miss Durant.

The groom sat by the pulpit, fidgeting anxiously as he heard the bells peal, but he was encouraged by his groomsmen, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy who stood nearby exchanging amused glances.

At length, Mrs. Bennet signalled Lydia and Mary to walk up to the groomsmen, each holding their small bouquet of fresh lilies.

'You know, madam, it is custom for the groomsmen to escort the bridesmaids,' Mrs. Carter added.

'Oh, well I wouldn't wish to impose that on two married men like Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.'

'Then their wives should have been bridesmaids.'

'I do not believe tradition allows for married women to…' started Jane.

'Tradition! If we were still ruled by that, Napoleon would still be a poor soldier,' she spoke coldly.

The church choir started its melodious song, waking up all drowsy and listless faces in the chairs, as the ring bearer and flower girl walked up to the front, blushing terribly as they held hands.

'Well, how improper for young children to come like this,' Mrs. Carter spoke again.

'It is only reverend Abbot's darling children, George and Cassandra, they are such sweet, good-natured children, no wonder he chose his own kin for the ceremony. Mr. Abbot holds us in the highest regard,' Mrs. Bennet spoke pleased, but Mrs. Carter was no longer paying attention to her.

At last, to Colonel Fitzwilliam's joy, the usher opened the doors for Mr. Bennet and Kitty to enter. Now that the morning air had revived her, she looked even prettier than before, so much so, that many exclaimed she deserved to be called a beauty like her sister, Jane. Perhaps it was the lovely gown she was wearing, but she flew on her feet, like a bird soaring through the sky.

Mr. Bennet thought that, as he was doing this the third time, he had no regrets whatsoever and only hoped that more occasions such as these would follow. Seeing as his companion was trembling slightly as she followed him to the pulpit, he dared speak to her.

'Now, my dear, we both know why this is one of the most important moments in a woman's life, but do you know why it is most important to _you_?'

Kitty looked at him confused. She did not know how to answer. Perhaps it was wiser to be silent.

'Do not look so baffled at me. Why, now is the moment you deserve to be called Catherine and not Kitty anymore.'

She couldn't suppress a slight chuckle, but she was proud to know that her father considered she had grown considerably and was ready to become a wife. How good a wife she will be remains to be seen…

Mary didn't take her eyes off Kitty the entire ceremony, she watched happily how her father put her hand in the Colonel's and how they both looked in each other's eyes with hope. Lydia was moving from one foot to another and breathing hard as too much excitement had done her bad. She sighed every time the reverend paused, in order to be heard, but smiled with true joy when she heard their vows, theirs being reminiscent of her own grey marriage.

Mrs. Bennet held her handkerchief to her eyes when Kitty spoke loudly "I do" but no tears were shed on it, however, seeing as most ladies held their cloth in such manner, she, as mother, could not make an exception. Her heart skipped for joy, her child was safe and loved.

After the ceremony ended, they were called to sign the marriage certificate and the registers of Mr. Dollows, one of the Shire's magistrates. Now they truly were man and wife, Mary thought pleased.

As for the Colonel and Kitty, we can safely assume no one doubted the happiness in their eyes as they held hands and exited the church, followed by a convoy of family and friends. Mary was one of the lasts to come out and join her father outside as the couple was getting in the Colonel's carriage. They would safely drive to Netherfield Hall, therefore, the bride did not yet shed her tears of goodbye.

Mrs. Bennet was now more anxious than ever, she counted all the carriages that had arrived, the ones she had ordered, the ones that were strange and she racked her mind as to whether they would be enough.

She directed the reverend and Mrs. Long to the coaches and made sure the Lucases would not be driven by their own "petty thing" as she called their excellent carriage. Her pride was shown through her extended generosity which amused her husband greatly.

'See there, Mary that is a great example of selfish selflessness…'

'You have such a way with paradoxes, papa, you might want to write some philosophy soon.'

'I'll allow Mr. Hume and Mr. Burke to do that for me. You'd better go find Lydia, I will call for your mother when she has lost her own voice so she will not protest.'

* * *

Netherfield Hall shone with light and happiness as most of the carriages arrived at its gates. A dozen maids, Mr. Brown, Joe and Roberta were already there, as well as ushers and two butlers hired by the Colonel himself. Everything was spick and span, but decidedly tasteful, not at all too austere or too pompous. The rooms had been delicately prepared for the dinners and dances and no detail remained neglected.

The main hall was filled with guests as Mrs. Bennet marched through to inspect the kitchens and the upper rooms, where the elderly could rest. The card rooms, she thought, were not sufficiently lit so she commanded that more lamps be brought.

Mary had to admit that all the preparations had served to offer a very pleasant feast, though she was sure that half of it had been done by the Colonel. Also, half of the expenses for all this, she could imagine, had been afforded by the Darcys as a wedding gift to their dear friend. She had reason to suspect so from something her father had told her, but she dared not imply so to her mother, who knew nothing about it.

She felt a bit ashamed to know they always needed help from their wealthy relatives, but such was life, that had given less to men just as honest as others.

As she entered the parlour along with most of the young ladies she felt a bit relieved at not having seen Mr. Fowler at all. She could perhaps enjoy the evening without fearing of meeting him in any circumstance.

Kitty had walked with her groom to the Ball Room and there she was fixed together with the Colonel at the large table at the front of the room, the place considered most distinguished. Her father and Lydia joined them promptly, her mother however was off on another urgent errand and her husband suspected she would be up and about all day as she had done so at the previous weddings.

Lydia was bored out of her mind and only waited the opportunity to leave the table and join a group of ladies she saw on her left which had established themselves round a coffee table and were trying to smoke some pipes.

Catherine noticed, as she looked about the room that it was not nearly as lavished as the Ball Room at the Darcy wedding, but she would not complain for one second. Everything was done in a more humble way but charming, nevertheless.

She only exchanged some soft words with the Colonel, neither having dared to talk much, no matter how much they had missed each other's presence.

Jane and Lizzie finally appeared from the crowd and went over to the large table to congratulate their sister one more time, before sitting down themselves. After them followed Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, the latter looking a bit put off as he was accompanied by Mrs. Carter, who having noticed him next to Elizabeth, immediately came to be introduced.

Looking at Mrs. Carter amused, Kitty was reminded of Caroline Bingley and immediately inquired of her.

'Unfortunately, she could not honour us with her presence, she was invited by her sister to join her in Paris and Miss Bingley could not possibly refuse her,' Elizabeth said smiling.

'What a pity it is indeed…'

Mrs. Carter managed by some stroke of luck to find an unoccupied seat next to Mr. Darcy and she seemed bent on remaining there, careless whether she should have sat at another table. She was no longer making eager conversation with him, seeing as he was not keen on it. She simply felt content to be able to be close to the Darcys and give them an account of her niece of whom she was so fond of.

'Is everything to your taste, Catherine?' the Colonel asked shyly.

'Very much so, I only wish everyone I loved were here, I don't see all my sisters and mama is gone God knows where…'

'They will all be seated in time…now everyone is up for a bit of tea and some provincial gossip. The feast hasn't really begun. We shouldn't worry, quite yet.' He was thinking of Mrs. Bennet when he said the last sentence and he hoped she would find everything just as she wanted it to be. If not…he did not want to be in her proximity in that case.

The wood panelled room where they would all dine was adjacent to the Ball Room, but not half as large and many were uneasy at the thought of eating there. Images of people elbowing each other and trying to find room between hands and shoulders crossed some ladies' minds and they shuddered in horror.

They were all to return to their seats in the Ball Room after supper, so Mrs. Bennet established. Tea would be served in the parlour and there was ample food in the Ball Room for all gourmands such as the reverend who always had quite substantial meals.

Mary glanced only once at the Ball Room to decide she did not want to enter yet. Now that more guests had arrived it was quite crowded, even though there was room for everyone. However, most groups were formed across the room and there was only space to walk among them, but one would feel lonely wandering all by oneself, belonging to no particular merry circle.

She had seen Georgiana at the church in one of the third rows, but she had found it impossible to speak to her at that moment as people rushed out of the nave and she only had a chance to smile at her warmly.

Mary now was in search for her friend and hoped she would find her soon, because not only did she miss her, but she thought that the event could be borne with her by her side.

However, luck was not on her side, wherever she looked Georgiana was not there. For a moment, she considered she might have taken ill or something worse had happened.

She saw the band that had arrived promptly and took their places in the Ball Room, she had seen the Lucases tamper with the china to see if it was silver, she had even seen Miss Dawson and Miss Kilmer, the old unmarried ladies of the district who were always seen together and inseparable, almost like sisters in sufferance, walking serenely through the rooms with a piece of sponge cake on each plate.

Yet no sign of her dear friend. She had recognised almost the entire neighbourhood, but beyond that she did not know anyone. The Colonel's friends were strangers to her and she suspected Georgiana wouldn't find herself in those groups.

After two hours of tedious searching she gave it up and settled in one of the card rooms where some old gentlemen from town were playing backgammon. Watching their game was even duller and she regretted not having taken a book with her to entertain herself.

When her eyes travelled across the room she saw Mrs. Long in one of the chairs, watching the game intently. The minute she saw Mary, she signalled her to come by her side.

Mary groaned inwardly, it would take hours to leave that woman's side now.

'Miss Bennet, how delightful to see you here,' she said in a voice which made it sound anything but delightful.

'I am equally pleased to see you, Mrs. Long, how have you been?'

'Not that well, child, not that well, but thank you for asking. A sudden small cold almost threatened one of my Sundays at church, but I took Mrs. Stewart's advice and drank more green tea instead of black and so I managed to get well shortly enough. I wonder if she has been invited, I would like to express my gratitude once more. Have you seen her?'

'Not quite, I believe Mrs. Stewart couldn't come, her husband is out of town and she never goes out without him,' she replied obediently.

'No matter, I shall see her at church. But, well, how lovely your attire is. The sleeves are a tad short for my taste, but I need not blame you for that, I know your mother is quite liberal when it comes to such things. The colour is pretty and not too bright, perfectly sober, I would say, but really the sleeves are a tad too short.'

'I regret they are too short as well, it is not very warm this time of year.'

'That's exactly what I mentioned to my servant Beth, she was advising me not to take the woollen shawl, for I would be too warm, but I told her the weather was by no means that of spring. One should be cautious, especially at such events when some people are in the habit of keeping windows opened for too long.'

'My mother has made sure no one will attempt such a thing.'

'I am glad she has _some_ sense. Now tell me, do you still play the piano? I would so much like to hear you play again.'

Mary sighed. Mrs. Long was one of the few people in the district and she believed in all England who enjoyed the dull, sad, church songs she used to take up at the lady's old piano, whenever she came to visit. Instead of finding this a reason of happiness, she was more convinced that all that time she had made a fool of herself.

'I'm afraid there is a band, music is already provided, I could not intrude.'

'Humph, it's a pity, I really do not take to these new popular tunes all the youths dance on. Quite shocking to see even elders enjoy such things. I for one believe in tradition and taste persistent in time.'

'I agree, but one should make allowances if one should…'

'Dear Miss Bennet, could you please get me that cup of tea from that table over there? I am too old to get up as fast as you do.'

'Certainly…'

She decided it would be a long day and an even longer night.

_Miss Bennet…Miss Bennet…I really am the only Miss Bennet left, _she thought.

* * *

After half an hour of such more idle talk in which she had to agree with all that Mrs. Long uttered, she was saved from such an uncomfortable position by her mother. Never did she think she could have been so happy to see her. Mrs. Bennet had not intended to find Mary there, but now that she had, she was scandalized to see whom she was chatting with. As if it wasn't enough that her daughter never engaged in any conversation with the young men there, she also had to attract the attention of elderly widows with nothing to interest them but the lace of their new bonnets.

She was actually looking for Mr. and Mrs. Collins who had promised to arrive around noon. She wanted to greet them properly, especially Mr. Collins who always showed himself displeased with her, never having forgotten Elizabeth's refusal.

'Good afternoon, Mrs. Long, I hope you are enjoying yourself. Mary, dear, what are you doing here in the cards room?'

'She was keeping me company, we were thoroughly _enjoying ourselves_ as you put it, Mrs. Bennet. I meant to talk to you about these dresses, I do believe Miss Mary's sleeves are a tad too short for my like, perhaps you should revise this.'

'Oh, I will, the garment was purchased in a rush, I had no time to inspect it rightly. Mary, perhaps you'd like to join the others in the Ball Room, if you could please excuse her, Mrs. Long?'

'I have nothing against it, but do come back Miss Bennet, I get rather bored without someone to talk to,' she said drawing her shawl.

'I certainly will, good day,' she barely said before she was dragged out of the room by a cross Mrs. Bennet.

'Mary, how could you find such a partner in Mrs. Long! All the youths are in the Ball Room yet you sit idly in the cards room, entertaining Mrs. Long! I say, if I hadn't been there to get you out, you would have stayed with her for the remainder of the feast. Sometimes, I do not know what is in that head of yours!'

'I appreciate you came in search for me, but I would have acquired a better partner in Miss Darcy, could I have found her…'

'Oh, I wasn't looking for you Mary, did you happen to see Mr. and Mrs. Collins? They are bound to arrive any minute now…'

As they walked across the entrance hall Mary noticed Lizzie was embracing someone dearly. It was Charlotte Collins as she had rightly guessed.

'Mama…' she started, but Mrs. Bennet had already seen and was rushing to welcome Mr. Collins who was a little behind.

What with all the commotion, Mary found herself alone again, surrounded by a crowd of people, all talking, drinking, eating and laughing.

She stepped back slightly frightened and turned in the hallway. Mary saw through the open doors the lovely gardens outside, surrounded by gentle, orange rays of sunshine which reflected in the mane of many sand-coloured horses. Tufts of grass seemed to sparkle, when at a closer look, they were sprinkled with late snowdrops. She decided to venture on a walk outside in order to escape the clamour of all the guests.

Mr. Collins was just bowing stiffly to Mrs. Bennet as she passed them.

'…and we have turned his study in a room for the baby, he was very kind to offer…' she heard Charlotte tell Lizzie as she held her hands over her stomach.

'I must congratulate you, I had no idea you were to be a father, Mr. Collins, what a fortunate event!' Mrs. Bennet said.

'I do think I shall be an excellent father if only I use the methods passed down by my own father, who, in all earnestness, declared a young man must always be taught to respect ladies, before anything else.'

'What a noble character…I suppose you wish it to be a son then…'

'If I had a daughter I would have much more trouble, taming her would not be easy, as you might well know, Mrs. Bennet, your own daughters show lack of restraint sometimes…'

Mary almost scowled at his reply and as she was stepping down the stairs she looked back with a frown at the pompous man, whom she had at one time considered unfortunate and lonely.

Since she was not paying attention she bumped into a gentleman by the looks of it and almost lost her balance. When she managed to look up, she dared not apologise.

'And here I thought I would come to enjoy Colonel Fitzwilliam's wedding, but it seems the first sight I am bound to have is of charming Mary Bennet, of all people.'

Mr. Prowler sat upright, looking down at her with his usual smirk. He looked pale and tired, but he was wearing one of his best suits and no one would have called him anything less than handsome.

'Mr. Prowler,' she bowed, 'my apologies for having already spoilt your evening.' She had recovered her spirits as well as her tongue as she addressed him.

'I won't let you do that, Mary Bennet, now, where were you running off to, madam?'

'It is not really your concern, is it?'

'Is that how you show your gratitude to every male who just happens to save your life?'

Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered. She cursed inwardly, thinking that she had been very impolite and ungrateful, indeed.

Mary blushed furiously and turned away.

'There's no need for that, a simple "Thank you Mr. Prowler, I was obviously acting obstinate and childish and you were very right, indeed Sir, to stop me from doing away with myself. I am eternally grateful and indebted to you" shall do.'

Mary smiled. 'Well, since you've said it yourself so well, I shan't repeat myself.'

'Am I to presume I read your thoughts exactly?'

'No man can read a woman's thoughts_ exactly_.'

'How unfair of you to take advantage of your darling sex.'

'It is but what a feeble woman can do, after all.'

'Well, then, accompany me to the Ball Room, you feeble woman, for I believe some people are expecting to see me.'

'But, Sir, I was about to take a walk…'

'Do not believe for one minute you are exempt from your debt.'

With that he pulled her by the hand roughly and followed inside, bowing politely towards Elizabeth. Mary could barely see where she was going, but as soon as they stepped into the Ball Room he let her go and rushed to pay his attentions to the bride and groom, nodding towards Mr. Darcy who was looking at him expectantly.

As she was just left there, Mary couldn't help feeling slightly vexed that she had been brought there, against her will only to be abandoned by a stranger she did not trust.

She sighed and seeing as she would better attempt to flirt with Michael Abbot, the poor, white-faced fourteen year old boy, than try to go out of the crowded room, she sat down next to the dancing couples which were pacing the room with their steps softly.

Some joy was acquired in seeing Kitty and the Captain joining the pairs for the umpteenth time and noticing Catherine shone with beauty among all the ladies. She smiled pleased and surprised that it had all turned out as she had wanted, in regards to them.

' "In her experience all her friends relied..",' she started saying.

' "…Heaven was her help and nature was her guide".'

She looked up surprised.

'You wouldn't be talking of Catherine, would you? You'd offer her such a tribute,' Mr. Prowler spoke as he leaned against her chair. 'Don't think I have forgotten Miss Bennet and don't think you can hide here and adore George Crabbe in silence and pretend to admire your sister. I know better.'

'Well, I considered you had joined the family at the table, Mr. Prowler. I never knew you were a reader of Mr. Crabbe's.'

'And I am not …sometimes, I pick up a volume and then I think that this may be one of our few really well-worth poets. Of course, in thirty years or so he will be forgotten and no one shall know of him anymore.'

'Let us hope the glory of one man lasts longer than that of an empire.'

'But why worry of that at this time? Come.'

He offered his hand. She gave him a puzzled look.

'You can take it, Miss Bennet, I am inviting you to dance with me, as subtle as my manners might be.'

She wondered whether she should accept or not. He looked at her impatiently and in the impulse of the moment she took his hand rather roughly and both joined the pairs.

They faced each other patiently, waiting for their turn when a new tune started.

'Seeing as this is my first attempt at dancing with you, I can only presume your skills at that have not improved.'

'You are correct to assume so,' she said as they joined hands and parted once more, circling another couple.

'Did I remark you look quite pretty, tonight, Miss Bennet? Of course, you would have been truly pretty had you been covered once more in dirt and mud, but for that we would need Victor.'

'Your cheeky replies do not intimidate me.'

'I did not expect it would, I am just warming up.'

'But I shall remain cold to all attacks,' she replied as they joined a circle of dancers.

They remained silent for five minutes, in which time Mr. Prowler cast a glance at the table where the bride and groom were seated.

'I see your sister seems quite displeased at seeing us dance,' he remarked at length.

'Catherine does not seem…'

'I meant Mrs. Wickham. She seems quite put off and she's looking daggers at us.'

'Well…it would not be me she'd have something against,' Mary spoke slowly eyeing him carefully.

His face had now turned serious. 'Surely, the reasons why she would not approve of me are numerous and prejudiced.'

'So they seem, only you can enlighten me, Sir.'

'There is nothing to enlighten. Everyone knows your sister and I are not the best of friends.'

'I didn't,' she lied. 'And why is it so?'

He paused for several moments. 'It is so because of many mistakes made by both parties at one time.'

'Should those mistakes be repaired…'

'You talk as if you knew. It is not quite so simple. How is her pregnancy going? Is the baby alright?'

'I have no reason to believe anything is wrong, she is feeling very well, is herself in all matters. If she were taken ill, we would know. The baby is growing strong, for she eats amply for him.'

'I am glad to hear it, then, let us hope she will be a better mother than wife.'

'Why the interest in the child?'

'She was, after all, the wife of my cousin.'

There was a long silence, interrupted only by laughs and whispers around them as they continued to dance.

'I see the news does not surprise you.'

'I knew of it beforehand.'

'From who, may I ask?'

'Mr. Bingley informed me due to certain circumstances.'

'Ah, I should have foreseen that…well, then, there you have it.'

'Yet I still do not know clearly why you believe Lydia was a bad wife.'

'I never said she was a bad one, heavens no! I had nothing to accuse her of when it came to loving her husband and taking care of him. She did her best at that. I simply said that she might be better off with a child than my cousin.'

'So you do not think of him highly, not that he would deserve that, admittedly.'

'It is considered sinful to reproach the dead, but he was not an exemplary cousin, as you well said,' he replied coldly taking her hands and releasing them as the dance ended.

'Well, then, I suppose you profess to be different?'

'Believe what you will, Miss Bennet, I have my sins and errs I have not yet amended for. He had his. We are all but humans.'

With that he smiled cynically at her, bowed and bid her a good evening as he joined Mr. Darcy in the cards room.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: A Fair Wedding part 2

Mary stood there, transfixed for some minutes before she attempted to move. Let no one be deceived, she was by no means impressed or too agitated, she was simply in deep thought. And when Mary Bennet took up thinking too hard, the world around her would disappear and she would find herself only in the cluster of her ideas.

Yet, even though she rememorized all his words she could not make out some of their meaning.

'It's not like I have found out a great deal…' she muttered to herself. 'The matter is still shadowed.'

She gave Lydia a brief glance. She was almost lying in her chair, eating pudding after pudding, though her mother, who came by once in a while, warned her she would spoil her dinner.

_This business is known to her as well, yet I can never really find a way to discuss it with her. It's really silly…to have the answers right in front of you, but not to be able to see them. _

_I am sure that, as he said, both made mistakes, but what mistakes exactly? And why cannot they be fixed? I understand the utter dislike, but the causes and reasons…If he did force Lydia into something, what did she do to him to make him do so? If he harmed her, how did she harm him?_

_Probably Wickham had something to do with it too. A man who takes good care of his wife wouldn't allow some things to transpire under his roof, especially cases of adultery. _

'Miss! Excuse me, miss!'

Mary jumped at the shrill voice which interrupted her train of thoughts.

She turned rather cross. A young man with a shock of red hair, standing up like the needles of a hedgehog and a tight waistcoat that left no room for air was staring at her a bit confounded.

'Yes?'

'My partner and I do not have enough room…would you mind stepping away from the dancing quarter for a while?'

She noticed he was hanging on fervently to a younger lady with the same red hair and odd look.

Mary blushed self-consciously and turned embarrassed, leaving in a rush.

The couple still stared after her, for a while.

She noticed the guests were quite agitated and impatient for the wedding dinner to start, which would be an opportunity for some old patronesses to gather and share their news and gossip, for some ladies to find good seats next to fair friends or amiable gentlemen and for some keen mothers like hers to brag on and on about her girls' success in marriage.

It was not a pleasant affair for her, since she had no one to really converse with and she would probably have to entertain people like Mrs. Long, which would not bother her if that mentioned lady ever bothered to listen to her.

Of Mr. Prowler she saw nothing of, as she moved around the Ball Room and she suspected he had kept his word and had retired with Mr. Darcy, but why and where was beyond her. Suffice to say, she did not see him anymore and that was a relief, for his witty lines sometimes made her be at a loss for words and she loathed not being able to reply to someone of his statute.

It would be a tedious afternoon, evening and night, as she had predicted, for there was no sign of enjoyment. Once or twice she passed her sisters who were engaged with Charlotte and the abhorrent Mr. Collins.

At length, she even conversed with the Lucases, who were all gathered, with the exception of Maria, who was lying sick in bed. Mary only smiled sadly knowing right away what a blatant lie that was. She owed it to herself that Kitty had by no means been kind to her, but Maria Lucas was not exactly an angel herself.

When she did manage to break away from the Lucases she decided to take up that walk she had intended to go on before Mr. Prowler had interrupted her, but once again, upon being close to her destination she had another surprise.

A pair of small, white hands encircled her eyes.

'Guess who it is,' the soft voice said.

'If I do, may I be able to turn and hug my dear friend?'

Mary and Georgiana greeted each other with utmost warmth as they kissed each other tenderly. There had been months since they had last spoken and there was much to make up for.

Miss Darcy looked wonderful as always, though a tad pale, what with all her distress for Theodore's departure and his sister's illness. Not to mention, she felt caged at home, not being able to talk to any sensible creature of her kind. Lizzie was simply too busy and her brother…it was not even to be tried.

Her dress was very fine and her hair fell in ringlets candidly on her shoulders, making her look very fragile, but Mary knew Georgiana Darcy was a fierce and obstinate girl when needed.

'Why have you come so late?'

'Oh, it was such a silly affair! I had to wait on Miss Bancroft for more than an hour and her brother too! I told them we would be late, but they wouldn't hear of it. They are such stuck-up prudes sometimes, concerned so much about the propriety of their looks, though they are very amiable and good-natured indeed, if you talk to them you'll see right away how at ease they are among friends. Conversation is really their skill.'

'Who are Miss Bancroft…and Mr. Bancroft?'

'Oh, what a fool I am, I haven't told you! They are very close friends of the Colonel, you know. Mr. Bancroft, Jonathan is his name, was almost made lieutenant some years ago and was commanding in line with Fitzwilliam. They were most of the times in each other's company and helped each other a great deal, but the Colonel saved Jonathan's life once and since then he has tried paying him back with all the care of a good friend.'

'Indeed! Saved his life? Not on battle field I hope?'

'Oh, nothing of the sort! He saved him from drowning four summers ago when he had tried to cross the river carelessly, on horseback. The Colonel is a splendid swimmer, but poor Jonathan doesn't have such great constitution. In any case, he hasn't attempted crossing water ever since.'

'Quite a story…I see now why he was invited and why he came.'

'Yes, we've just been here an hour or so, but I already lost them, though they are easily identified, they have quite singular looks.'

'An hour has passed since you came? Heavens, quite a while, but in this crowd…'

'As you can see, I am just as pleased about that as you are. Well, we will find the Bancrofts when we are seated at dinner and I shall point them out to you and make all the acquaintances necessary. Until then, we'd better not stay here in the Hall any longer, the draughts can have terrible consequences on young ladies, such as ourselves.'

'It is best if we find a silent corner to chat, but I do not foresee that to be a successful mission,' Mary added bitterly as they were almost pushed aside by a gaggle of young ladies that looked more like geese in their white muslins.

* * *

Mary had been right about the two gentlemen; Mr. Darcy had led Mr. Prowler to an upstairs chamber that was secure from any unwanted guest for it was secluded and quite uncomfortable for anyone seeking to rest.

The first gentleman was quite stiff, he always was when dealing with business, the latter simply kept a straight face, though he would attempt a smile from time to time; he knew well Darcy did not trust him.

'Please be seated…we have some wine here…' he spoke as he reached for the goblet on the table to pour in the glasses.

'There's no need, thank you,' added Prowler politely as he sat down.

The sun was throwing its crimson rays over the surrounding fields, as the sun was setting rather early for its time. Still, there was promise of at least two more hours of light.

'I did not predict you would come, Mr. Prowler, I was under the impression you were quite busy in London.'

'And I am, to be honest, but I prefer travelling and being active to sedentary work in my office. Not to mention that I wish to prove that I can be of service to you, Mr. Darcy.'

'And why would you want to do that?'

'You are not only relative of Charles, but also…as most of us top-hat fellows like to think, a potential client. You treat your subordinates well, you care for your friends and you would deal with men of the law in very proper ways. Respect and collaboration are hard to find, especially in London, believe me.'

Darcy chuckled and took a sip of wine.

'I appreciate your honesty and pragmatism. It is good for a man such as yourself to combine superior feelings and morals with profane advantages and goals.'

'I am glad to know your opinion of me, Sir, is only slightly above the truth.'

'If it is so or not only I can judge later on. Now, tell me all you have found out.'

Mr. Prowler smiled and placed his map on the table. Some sheets were spread out of it.

'The name you gave me was, I'm afraid useless. Mr. Buddley, we believe, is no longer residing in London. You were informed that he was the man who took care of your properties and that is correct, but he is no longer to be found.'

'But that does not concern me so, I suppose if…'

'It does concern you because…you didn't know what the man did.'

'Oh, I do know he sold one of the properties, I told him to do so, because paying for it was tedious enough, so I had it so that the money from it be invested in stocks…shipments mostly.'

'I see…but with the war those stocks failed you, didn't they?'

'He paid me back 5000 pounds, in case you must know.'

James laughed bitterly.

'Did you ever check the amount lost and the profit he got out of the shipments these past two years since the coast was freed for commerce?'

Darcy paused and looked down put out.

'I admit I …didn't look much into the affair…as of late, I've had other things on my mind.'

'I don't blame you, there's enough work here and you've got a charming wife…but the fact remains that he owed you 30000 pounds or more, if we add the interest.'

Darcy frowned and clenched his fists. 'I guessed…it would be much.'

'And I'd be quite relieved if that were all…' added Mr. Prowler. 'See, I have been doing some research and some sleuthing on my own, as they say and I'm afraid Mr. Buddley hasn't fled from London just because he owed you all that money.'

Darcy looked up with a pained look in his eye.

'Curses…what did he do?'

'I'm afraid, Sir, that your other property has not remained intact. In fact…' he said taking out a parchment, 'I believe that it isn't even yours anymore, though illegal…but we can't prove that yet, now, can we?'

'What in God's name are you talking about?'

'Well…these things cannot be said in a nutshell, so I shall elaborate thoroughly. Mr. Buddley was in a state of crisis when the war was at its peak, what with the failure at the stock exchange…so he turned everywhere for money. He was rather afraid of you, if I might add, but seeing as you neglected most of your affairs in London, that fear diminished in time and arrived to a point where he was certain he could try something a bit more adventurous. He had four daughters, all to marry and loved them deeply. Unlike Mr. Bennet, he would go to all lengths to secure them great husbands. Those husbands came at a price.

In addition to this, his wife died and her brother demanded money from him. He was a desperate man.'

'How do you know so much of this?'

James smiled pleased. 'It is my job, to know, Mr. Darcy. As I was saying, he tried something…more advantageous and profitable.'

Darcy gave him a mortified look. 'Please don't tell me…'

'I'm afraid yes. He did venture…on such fields.'

'So, the black market I gather?'

'Something like it, but not exactly. See, our friend here isn't that clever for that.'

'Alright…just tell me what he did.'

'Well, you'd better take a deep breath. Mr. Buddley has very pretty daughters, not plain at all. I think it's from the mother, he is not well…what one would call handsome. But one of his daughters in particular, Hannah, is quite breath-taking. I saw a likeness of her some months ago and I can see why so many gentlemen loved her so.

In any case, she attracted the looks of a…very dangerous man, if I can say so myself. A Mr. Morel. I gather you do not know him. He is a simple bank clerk, or so it is thought, but in truth, he is one of the most influential figures of the black market. He is not running the bank officially, because he believes too much public exposure will lead to his downfall. Smart fellow, at that. Yet, his brother is Judge Laurel Morel of the High Court, he has cousins in the marine, many sergeant friends and public officials who do him many services regarding stately affairs and two sisters who married Baronets. Safe to say, he is a noble rat. And it just happened so, that one of the craftiest men in London fell for the charms of Hannah Buddley, the town flirt. Her beauty befuddled him like nothing else, though he is prone to become so enamoured often. He is quite the womanizer. This time he knew what he wanted, he was aiming to have her at all costs. The trouble was Hannah, darling girl was in love with a teacher, a Mr. Cartson, I believe. Her father begged her leave this fancy behind and accept the numerous advances of Mr. Morel, but she would not consent. Like I have mentioned, Mr. Buddley loved his daughters so much and was so frightened by his wife that he dared not say much when they all objected to this union. Mr. Buddley tried reasoning with Mr. Morel, but it would not do. He tried to persuade him to choose another one of his daughters, but he knew well only money tempted him more. A big scandal ensued…Morel made sure Buddley fell to complete poverty and bankruptcy…so much so that his wife died in the course of a year. He was beyond being saved.

Morel promised him Hannah would not see the day she married…and so Buddley was forced to offer him, in exchange for his and his daughter's peace your property in south of London.

Amazingly enough, Morel accepted, which made both father and daughter more than happy, they did not even fear you would find out.

You had left the ownership papers to him and he, surely, gave them all to Morel who was more than glad to stack them well. It's obvious now that Morel accepted the house being fully aware it was yours; he hoped he could squeeze more money out of your family, since the Darcys are quite well seen in London. He forged a set of new ownership papers, he can well do that what with all his relations in Court. All I can say is that I hope he hasn't destroyed the original ownership documents. If he has…well it will be a very difficult case…he's a strong man. If he were nobody, we could do this easily…or at least, we could do it.'

Mr. Prowler finally stopped and took a breath. He disliked talking so much.

Darcy was in a miserable state as he sat hunched over the table, with his forehead in his palms.

'Let him be damned…but it is not all his fault, if I had been more careful…'

'There's no use being sorry now.'

'I must go to London at once.'

James hesitated.

'Perhaps that is not the best way to go about it. Mr. Morel would know immediately and he would either destroy the documents if he hasn't already or cause you a great deal of trouble by trying to bargain with you for the property.'

Darcy nodded confused and poured himself another glass of wine.

'What about the State archives?'

'I knew you'd breach that…I was meaning to add…I instantly thought of that too and tried checking, but the documents I am in search of are placed under strict security under the order of the Court. So…you might understand from this that Morel took precautions…However, we can try harder. But I did not mention this since I think we can do it some other way. After all, the archives are more useful, in this case, when we have your original ownership papers and we can confront them in Court with his fake ones. Only then, can it be solved. Not even his brother can do anything about that. It can go as high as to the King.'

'You are right…you know more of it…'

'I will, nevertheless, pursue the archives further…but we'll have to have another plan as well, if you really want to win this.'

Some minutes passed in silence and both meditated over the spoken words. At length James spoke.

'May I ask something, Sir?'

'Speak…'

'Why are you so bent on that plot of land? Dealing with a fellow like Morel is quite nasty. I would try to put it out of my head, if I were you. If you want to bargain with him…well, you'll be in for a lot of surprises.'

Mr. Darcy rose agitated and settled the glass down. He started pacing the room fidgeting as if he was facing his wife in a tetchy mood.

'Well…I suppose I can trust you on this. Charles already knows…I'm surprised he has not told you.'

'I am all ears, Sir.'

'I can summarise it by saying…my father had a great deal of debts.'

James raised an eyebrow surprised.

'Yes, I had the same reaction. A man of his propriety and good breadth…you wouldn't think of it, would you? Neither could I. Mother had no idea, no one did. It seems the deceased Mr. Wickham didn't become addicted to gambling on his own.'

Here he faltered and turned away.

'My father…had gotten tired of life at one point and sometimes went off on some mad escapades. He took Wickham with him…they went gambling…and in search of women, the lowest entertainment possible, in any case. That's how Wickham got his taste for gambling. Father was old, he got out of it easily…, but the other was young. I somehow find myself guilty for it. For a while, when we were young lads around sixteen, I pushed Wickham away, wanting to delve into some solitary activities. Perhaps…that's why he chose my father's company so often.'

'I don't think you should blame yourself, Mr. Darcy. At sixteen, he should have been conscious enough to understand some things, if you say he was brought up just like you were. If you did not go astray, he shouldn't have either.'

'Perhaps…but it was my own father who embittered his life! I know he was of bad sort, but so was my father…or he was simply bored with life.

Nevertheless, the debts kept multiplying and he hid them very well, until it reached a dangerous point. That is when…'

Here he stopped and sat down once again, feeling quite dejected as he tried to calm himself.

'That is when he supposedly took too much valerian and died. We all thought it was a terrible accident. He was alone in Manchester and we thought he had been helpless. Now, I am more and more persuaded he did it on purpose. However, that does not matter now. What matters is that for quite a while now I tried paying most of his debts. With his grand fortune came all the responsibilities. But…as of late, I've been running out of money and the debts keep pouring in. I was hoping my properties could perhaps save me from this encumbrance.'

James looked at him with a sad look in his eye. He thought the Darcys could never have problems with money…now it seemed a bleak future awaited them…and Mr. Darcy was right, those properties could help.

With the 30000 pounds he had a right to from his early property and his house in south of London he could disentangle himself from these grey affairs.

Yet it seemed impossible ever to recover them. James smirked. He loved challenges.

'I understand now. I understand perfectly well. Mr. Darcy…I can't promise you much, but …even though I said Morel is too powerful, he has his weaknesses and I still have some tricks up my sleeve. If there's anything I can do, I'll do it. I promise that you won't come out of this with nothing.'

'I don't have much hope, but what is left I'll put it in you. If you manage to do this, Mr. Prowler, I assure you, you will not leave my house empty-handed and you shall always have a place of respect here.'

James smirked and bowed as he got up.

'Of that I am sure…'

* * *

Mrs. Bennet was tiring herself calling everyone to dinner and her fashion of summoning them was so daring, that most ladies didn't even consider obeying.

At length, the valets pitied her enough to ring the bells and everyone gathered towards the two dining rooms, for only one would have never been enough. And even so, most young people were expected to have a bite to eat in the ball rooms.

'I do feel like a herd of cattle right now…' Georgiana said amused.

'And you would have too honourable a position…from the looks of it, the right term is pigs since we are about to stuff our faces.'

'Always looking on the bright side, I see…'

'I see the glass empty…this way it's easier to wash.'

Now the true fit was to find places for the both of them. Mrs. Bennet was close by, so they knew they would do well to rush, since she was apt to find them unwanted table partners.

The crowd was giving them both a headache and they were considering giving up and finding some secluded cards room where they could take some cups of tea and some bread and butter when, just as luck would have it, Georgiana spotted the Bancrofts. There was a seat left free next to them and before thinking much about it she scurried to them and placed herself there happily.

Mary tried to follow but there was no place left. She then recognized the offended couple who had peered at her oddly in the Ball Room.

The red hair stood out and shone brightly. Georgiana looked at her mortified and tried searching for a seat for her friend, yet nothing was available. Her selfishness usually was overbearing, even though she often berated herself terribly for it.

Mary luckily knew her character and only brushed it off with a smile as she went on to find somewhere to sit where her mother would not catch her. That seemed for a while impossible, however, fortune smiled upon her when she noticed a very profitable place next to a lady who didn't seem older than her mother and was talking politely with a lady opposite her seat.

Without waiting any invitation she sat down quietly, making sure her folds didn't get caught up in the legs of the chair.

As soon as she was seated, the lady in question turned to her with a stern look.

'I beg your pardon?'

'Oh, I apologise, I saw this seat empty and I thought…'

'Well, you could have said something, girl. Never mind…I recognize you, child. Weren't you one of the bridesmaids?'

'Why, yes I was.'

'What is your name, for surely you must be a Bennet.'

'Mary, madam.'

'Ah…well proper name for a girl, I suppose. Perhaps you were not acquainted with me. I wouldn't be surprised, your mother didn't see fit to make me an important guest. I am Mrs. Carter, Colonel Fitzwilliam's sister.'

Mary blushed self-consciously. She had heard of her when she had spoken to Lizzie some hours ago. Her sister proclaimed the woman was a bitter hag who only hunted a good position.

'Oh, I did not know the Colonel…what I mean is, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, madam.'

'Humph, I might understand why you do not know me, but your sister Catherine has no excuse.'

Mary thought that it was rather her brother's fault for not having told her, but she decided to keep quiet.

'I am sure from now on she will keep that in mind…'

'I do hope so. I hope that when I visit I won't be asked who I am first. I hope I shall be treated as a relative.'

'I assure you, Catherine only wishes to please.'

'Let her please her husband, not me. By the by, I have not seen much of Mr. Darcy, his poor wife is alone without him. He disappeared two hours ago. Where do you think he could have gone?'

'Not too far I suppose. He wouldn't leave without Elizabeth.'

'I heard he was dealing with some business problems. Really! At a wedding of all places.'

'In cases of emergency…'

'Nonsense! I always tell my husband to separate work from enjoyment. Only then does he thrive.'

'I am sure Mr. Darcy does so as well, something important must have come up.'

'So important he forgets about my brother…well, at least his wife looks pretty, I admit she is not completely plain.'

Mary had good sense not to retort to such cheeky replies. She did think, however, that she had picked one of the worst seats in the room.

'Yes, I dote on her, she is very kind.'

'I suppose so, though _my_ niece is an exemplary of kindness I assure you. And beauty as well…no one would call her less than pretty and she can really shine when she wears that blue gown my husband bought her when he visited Spain. Yes, I do believe Miss Durant is an accomplished young lady…and I must say, there aren't many of those.'

_This woman can talk civilly only of her niece, I gather. _

'She seems to be a…charming young lady…'

'Oh, she is. I have been meaning to talk to your mother about her. Perhaps then she would see how daughters ought to be raised and how they ought to be behaving in society.'

'I see…then she must be a model of good conduct and propriety…I suppose she's also gentle and good-natured, well read, educated in all ways, can play an instrument and can speak at least two languages. Not to mention she probably has a strong sense of ethics and morals,' Mary replied.

The lady seemed a bit flustered but she nodded and went on.

'I do not let herself get too tired with books. But she has all the attributed for a skilled wife and a responsible matron. Besides, her situation is quite favourable. She has at least 10000 to expect from her mother and a bit from the father who unfortunately is not of such wealthy position, but what can you say if the foolish woman married for feelings?'

'A favourable situation? I suppose that is alluring to most gentlemen…'

'Is it not? I always thought so. Miss Durant is very modest, however. She gives plenty to charity. Do you know, in France we always try to help the poor and sew some clothes for them, spare some bread. Do people do this here as well?'

'Fairly so…our reverent is a very active man when it comes to such things; he always gives some of the young girls and old ladies something to work for those in need. We also give money to church…'

'Pshaw, that is theft, Miss Bennet. Giving money to church won't help much, you can depend upon it. Those pounds reach anyone else but those in need.'

'How do you know so?' Mary inquired puzzled.

'My poor mother, God rest her soul, was once very good friend with a minister's wife, a very educated, amiable woman who had been made to marry a man of church by her uncle. She told me that all the money collected by her husband went to a Lady Alfonse, who was supposedly a mistress of the Cardinal's and she spent it all on new gowns. That was years ago indeed, before the grand Revolution.'

'Perhaps, madam, but that happened in France…'

'And you think here is any better? Humph!' she snorted but did not elaborate. 'I think the chicken is rather too roasted, don't you?'

'I haven't tasted it yet…'

_But I bet it shall taste bitter…_

She looked across the table to find Georgiana. She was immersed in a conversation with her friends and needn't be bothered. To her left she saw her mother talking to a young sergeant whom she had seen kissing Lydia's hand. From thereon, she assumed the worst, which was the best for her, in any case.

Poor Mr. Bennet entertained himself with Charles Bingley as they enjoyed their company, both their wives having been taken away from them. Jane sat next to Lizzie and indulged in some gossip with Charlotte, whose pregnancy was a vast subject indeed.

Lady Lucas had not come close to her daughter out of shame for such news being public. She abhorred making a public affair of such things, thus she enjoyed infinitely better to sit near Kitty and complain to her about poor Maria's weak constitution. Mr. Lucas was trying to talk to the Colonel as well and avoided sharing looks with Mr. Collins.

'And I begged her to get dressed and come but when I touched her forehead it was burning! I tell you, I thought she would die. I told my poor husband "dear me, we cannot leave, we must stay home, I must, I know I must, she'll perish". Mr. Lucas would not hear of it though. He's very strict with the girls, for he says it's all women's disease. He said Maria was simply upset about the new dress which had gotten stained. But I believe it was those gooseberries she ate. She is prone to walk alone in the meadows and collect fruit like that.'

'Oh, how terrible, I hope she gets much better, we shall come and visit,' Kitty added smiling sweetly.

Mary looked around helplessly. She was stuck in her seat for another good hour or two and she hoped that Mrs. Carter found another willing partner to talk with. She could not bear her acrid remarks so easily.

* * *

At length Mrs. Bennet rose to announce the tea. She felt honoured to do so, but only the reader can judge if her manner was honourable.

'Now, get up Kitty darling! Come now, the bride must be the first to rise with the groom of course! Oh, what's this nonsense that you haven't finished your pudding? You want the coffee and tea to get cold? That would be a great waste, especially since we added some apple cakes as well, imagine apples at this time! But we managed, most of them are of strawberries, though. But everyone likes cakes, I know the Lucases will enjoy them. Now, everyone please be ready for tea! Tea shall be served promptly!'

'Mama, let the butlers announce such things,' Catherine hissed angrily.

'Is the butler your mother? I am the mother of the bride and I have been to more weddings than you have hairs in your head.'

Mary would have chuckled amused had it not been for Mrs. Carter who threw a disdainful look her mother's way. That made Mary blush and lower her head in shame.

The room was full of noisy clatter of cutlery and crockery, added to the clamorous voices of some boisterous lads and lasses. Now the noise was amplified by the rising of guests to go outside.

Mary thought that in this crowd she would lose Georgiana once again, but Miss Darcy already felt mortified enough at having abandoned her friend, thus she made it her first goal to reach her and secure her hand.

'My dear Mary, please forgive me for having been so careless.'

'It was nothing, stop being so silly!' Mary said laughing.

'Well, I can make it up to you. The Bancrofts invited us to their table in the Ball Room, they are such good-natured people, their talks will surely amuse you.'

Mary was not very keen on it, but could do nothing but follow her friend. It was surprisingly easier to get out of the crowd this time and be unharmed. People were spreading in all directions, leaving space for some movement. They reached the Ball Room in no time and found the table they were seeking in a remote corner near the orchestra.

The sister and brother were already seated there, enjoying a good smoke when the two friends arrived. They welcomed them warmly and seemed not to recognize Mary from the dance floor, since all awkwardness was gone.

'Miss Bennet! Really, I thought there weren't any of them left!' said Miss Bancroft amused.

'Well, they didn't get rid of me,' Mary said telling herself she was only making mockery of it.

'I say, Catherine has picked the best man, he will always be there by her side, as he is for all his loved ones,' added Mr. Bancroft who felt inadequate and made it seem as if he would have preferred to be the woman, rather than the man, since he was always a tad too sentimental.

'Indeed, quite so, there couldn't have been anyone better for her,' Mary said. 'He can teach and improve her manners.'

'Your sister looks divine, the Colonel too, why that suit fits him very well,' said Miss Bancroft. 'Though why was her gown blue? Light yellow would have been better.'

'Oh, my sister hates yellow,' Mary replied simply after which a long silence settled in.

From time to time Mr. Bancroft would glance furtively at Georgiana then look quickly away. Mary noticed this and was about to inquire of it, but at that moment a group of youths reached their table.

The party was formed of two young men and one young lady who seemed to be eleven or twelve by the looks of it. The first gentleman, who was holding the girl's hand she did not know, but the second was Mr. Prowler.

'Oh, Brandon you have come and little Sarah as well! Miss Bennet, Miss Darcy this is one of my colleagues from Nottingham, Brandon Farren,' Mr. Bancroft added. 'And I see he brought one of his companions, Mr. Prowler is it not?'

Mr. Prowler nodded and shook hands.

'We've heard much about you, from Brandon, but we never really got to talk, I am so pleased he convinced you to come,' Miss Bancroft added happily.

'So am I, he has always told me the story of the most peculiar brothers in England and how one should be fortunate to chat with them.'

'Brandon always exaggerated our power to entertain, but please be seated,' they both exclaimed.

Mary was rather put out as she saw him place himself opposite herself, nodding his head condescendingly in her direction.

He smiled at Georgiana and kissed Miss Bancroft's hand before he opened his cigar case and took out a thick one.

'So, we know you are top lawyer in London, Mr. Prowler. The stories about you are as numerous as those about us…Is it true you managed to solve the Finnegan case in just three months?' asked Miss Bancroft.

'I see you are well informed about this one, yes it is true, but most people do not realise that case was fairly simple…at least it was when I discovered Mrs. Finnegan's lover had run away with the papers. You give me all too much credit, madam.'

'We do not think so, after all, rumour has it you've been helping Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy as well. That's quite a lot to take in for you, is it not?' asked Mr. Bancroft.

'True, but I love challenges, they keep me alive, I would never give up on a case, not to mention I enjoy having clients who treat me with respect.'

Mary was displeased by such arrogant remark and decided not to speak at all. The smoke from his cigar was flying all into her face.

'So do tell us, is London as tedious as ever at this time of year?'

'What with the coming end of the war, it is a grim view…but I am in luck to be able to escape here.'

'Do you really have time for everything you put your mind to?' asked Miss. Bancroft.

'I try my best…I haven't neglected my friends, I hope,' he said smiling towards Mary and Georgiana. 'I always say there's time for work and time to enjoy a cigar.'

_Could he be more pompous…he had been a lot more amiable earlier…_she thought.

'Quite true, I advise my brother to do the same,' Georgiana spoke for the first time.

'Thank you for agreeing, Miss Darcy. In any case, London is always busy and always dreary when you're accustomed to seeing it every day. Now…travellers that come to London for the first time see in it a glimmering hope, a ruby in the mud…until they realise it's nothing but a cobble stained with blood.'

_Ruby in the mud! For Heaven's sake how pretentious and artificial…_she thought disgusted.

A dreaded head-ache had taken over her again and she was holding her hand over her forehead in pain as she listened to the intense conversation.

'Come now, we both know you find London dreary since you wish you could see more of France,' teased Brandon.

'Why so?' inquired Miss Bancroft curiously.

'Why, for nothing at all…but there's always opportunity to see a nice flower and a pretty girl, am I not right, James?'

Mr. Prowler only nodded and took another puff of his cigar.

'Who could she be, Sir?' asked Georgiana excited.

'No one else than Geraldine Durant, of course!' Brandon exclaimed. 'One of the most darling women of the country.'

Mary raised her eyes surprised. Mr. Prowler smiled very pleased with himself.

'Durant? Strange name…sounds familiar…' muttered Mr. Bancroft.

'Surely it does! Her father has affairs in South America. Commerce is booming and the girl has quite a large dowry…not to mention she's pretty as a picture and very considerate, spirited and animated.'

Mr. Brandon was not always delicate in his speech, but our guests were used to this tone and greeted it kindly, inquiring more of this impressive lady.

'And I must say…she's quite enamoured with our James, always comes out to see him…'

'That's nonsense…she simply likes my company better than that of that wretched aunt of hers…' Mr. Prowler interfered but it was obvious by the way he smirked that he was very proud of this achievement.

'I tell you my friends, he has done right to befriend such a smart-looking lady…if he only goes a bit further he shall have a fortune of 10000 and more…' Brandon continued careless of Georgiana's frowns and Mary's disgusted look.

_So…he seeks to marry her for money and looks, I should have expected that from a man who was attracted to Lydia. _

Mr. Prowler looked down embarrassed and too proud to speak for some time, but eventually, the conversation breached the aspects of the wedding and the Ball.

Everyone had been equally pleased about the dinner, but showed complaints at the lack of space for dancing.

'I say, my sister and I could barely dance a reel…but well, with this crowd…' Mr. Bancroft added.

'Did you get to dance, Mr. Prowler?' Miss Bancroft asked.

James looked up and for a moment gave Mary an amused glance before settling his looks completely on the lady in question.

'Yes…I dare say I did and they were few but pleasant.'

'Oh, do tell us who the lucky ladies were,' Georgiana said cynically, but Mr. Brandon couldn't want more encouragement.

'I saw him myself enjoying the evening next to Miss Gordon, she's engaged however and he took a turn with Elizabeth Darcy and the bride as well. Oh and I daresay you asked Miss Belford for a dance as well, which made her only too happy to oblige since she is in mourning.'

Georgiana thought with pleasure that Mr. Brandon would have done much better had he been of the fairer sex, for he could get along perfectly well with the impetuous mothers of single daughters.

Mary looked at Mr. Prowler expectantly, waiting for him to acknowledge another dance that had not been mentioned by his garrulous friend.

He looked up confused and nodded.

'Yes, it is as Brandon says, I think he followed me like a ghost, but he is right, I had too little time to enjoy but the ladies were charming.'

Mary blinked angrily and rose after some moments.

'Excuse me, I need to use the lavatory,' she said politely and left without giving them a glance back. Georgiana looked back at her confounded and tried calling for her, but it would not do.

James only sighed and threw his cigar away putting his head in his chest.

Our heroine managed to slip through the little chatty groups hidden at corners and climbed up the stairs. She entered the first empty chamber she could find and started pacing it angrily.

'Such a deceiving, crafty, foolish, pompous, pedant, arrogant...' she hissed. 'It was he who asked me and yet he is ashamed to admit. I understand why he is, but at least he could spare me the humility. How horrid he spoke! As if he was the King's jester. It would suit him for being so amiable one moment and the next…'

She threw the table out of her way.

'And why on Earth did I get so irate about this stupid affair? I never wanted to dance in the first place, yet I left the table like an idiot and exposed myself to his ridicule! Ugh, I can be so foolish and nonsensical at times, to shrink from him! He's nothing but a…but a…'

But here she faltered as she looked in the mirror on the opposite wall.

Her cheeks were flushed and some strands of hair flew wild around her.

She did not breathe a word any longer, but sat down by the empty fireplace, in a cosy armchair, and looked at the cinder pensively. She wrapped her arms round her body and stayed this way meditating on how she had reached this point in her life that she had no pleasure in advancing. She felt alone, utterly alone. For the first time, she felt as if all her sisters had abandoned her.

And she felt that, by running away as she had done now, she was only repeating what she always did, every moment of her life.

Mary Bennet did not come out from the chamber until it was considerably dark outside and the commotion was no longer great downstairs.

She never got to say goodbye to the Bancrofts or Mr. Brandon…or Mr. Prowler who left immediately after she secured herself in her little hiding place.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Making Plans

It was obviously hard for Mrs. Bennet to say goodbye to Kitty as she stepped out of the carriage for the last time to embrace her. After that, Kitty would climb in and be on her way with the Colonel, far away from her childhood home.

It was harder for Kitty, though, who still thought she would not depart and it would only be a long holiday from which she would return.

Mother and daughter wept together for misunderstood reasons as the horses strutted impatiently in front of the carriage. The Colonel smiled sadly and was only a bit frightened that Kitty would suddenly change her mind and follow her parents instead of coming with him.

However, Catherine Fitzwilliam was still a Bennet by blood and she would not back down half-way through. Her father was proud of her for that and he refused to appear sad and nostalgic. He was rather happy and excited for his daughter's bright future.

A biting wind swept them all and Mary had to tighten her shawl as she looked over the fields of her home, through which she would venture alone from now on. But she smiled happily, thinking there would be great opportunities for the sisters to reunite after Kitty returned from Bath and…knowing Kitty, she would have a lot to tell from that journey.

The family stood reunited on the porch of their house, paying their adieus to a dear member that was going away, for how long, no one can know.

Even Roberta was there, holding her rolling pin aloof as she wiped tears from her eyes. Catherine had always loved to bake with her and sing to her some pretty songs she had learnt at church. Now, no one would entertain her so in the kitchen.

Louise would have waved to her merrily had she not been ashamed by Lydia who stood next to her and looked condescendingly at her sister, knowing well that even if Kitty had married she was still the mature one, for she was to become mother.

Nevertheless, she was quite sad to see her go. Of course, she would have never admitted it, but she did feel a pang at seeing her so happy to leave. She thought bitterly Catherine was happy not to have to be by her side anymore.

'Please take care and mind the wind! The roads are not yet safe, it has been a rough winter and I see spring is yet to come fully so you need be very careful with the roads and you too Colonel! Heavens, don't rush the horses, you will get there in no time,' Mrs. Bennet implored them as she tied once again Kitty's bonnet which she considered was not tied firmly enough.

'We will take all the care in the world, mama.'

'Fear not, madam, I have travelled on these roads so many times it could be a blizzard now and nothing would stop our arriving safe,' the Colonel spoke grasping Kitty's hand. 'Besides, now that I have a companion, there's not much to fear, for solitude has been banished.'

Mr. Bennet was fairly pleased, but his wife was sure the man was pulling her leg so she made them both promise they would each write to her separate letters once they arrived in Bath.

Another fifteen minutes were lost as Mrs. Bennet kissed both the bride and groom one last time and bade all do the same.

Mary embraced her sister tightly, knowing she would not see her in a long time.

'Be back soon, do not be late,' she whispered in her ear. 'And pray be happy, Catherine, be happy for that is what life is for.'

Kitty was firm enough not to shed any tears, but when she finally pulled the carriage doors shut, she let them stroll down her cheeks.

Her family watched the carriage depart slowly down the path, across thickets and hedges until they reached the steep road.

She did not look back at them for fear she would want to go back and embrace them one more time. They all waved happily at her, hoping fate would smile upon her future with the Colonel.

An hour passed until her tears finally stopped and then she noticed that all this time she had been holding her husband's hand so tight that it was quite red now.

Kitty had not shut an eye for the past two days and now she realised she could not hold her head up from too much drowsiness.

Thus, without thinking any further of her family or the road, she leant her head on the Colonel's shoulder and fell into a dreamless sleep.

He smiled and brushed her hair out of her face gently.

Outside, spring was blooming.

* * *

The first three days in the Bennet household were very confusing for all its inhabitants. Without Kitty, the house seemed to lack something, a certain something which had always been there and now that it was gone, no one knew how to cope with the empty space left behind.

Emptiness does not exist. It is only humans not being able to fill it. And now, no one knew how to fill Kitty's place.

It was always the same when Lydia left, when Jane left, when Lizzie left. The house would lose a soul, the house would gain a silence.

Lydia had returned, but it had not been the same playful, cheeky daughter, with dreams of gowns and parties. A bitter woman with a child in her womb had returned and she had not filled Lydia's place.

The only one left was Mary who had not been taken away, replaced or changed. She remained as she had been ever since her sisters had departed one by one. One could say she remained faithful to her family.

This was noticed by Mr. Bennet who came to love her more for being the only one to have remained by his side. It was perhaps a selfish love, but at his age, it was all he could give after he had been robbed of all children.

Mrs. Bennet, however, was of different opinion. She was, in fact, quite cross to see that after all her trials there still remained one to be taken care of and she knew this one would prove to be especially difficult.

The problem with mothers who have many daughters is that they try to fit them all in, into the same pack. If Jane and Lizzie had married so well, why couldn't have Kitty and Lydia followed their example?

Her hopes had been thwarted to see someone as good as Lydia, in her eyes, marry a red coat and end in ruin. Not to mention someone as fair as Kitty marry a dignified man, quite true, but a mediocre one in her eyes, nonetheless.

So then, what could she hope for Mary? She had neither looks nor talents to recommend her. She was not nearly as accomplished as Jane or Lizzie, she thought, thus it would be even harder to manage her marrying well.

Yet, she considered she should not bother herself too much right away, after all, she had just parted from one daughter, she had enough to think about and do.

And so, for some time her mother did not consider any other schemes or future plans. She knew time would come and she hoped a decent man like the reverend's son might do the job.

Such peace for a while was blessed for Mary who was very happy with her mother's indifference, if nothing else soothed her.

She had decided not to stand victim of boredom and loneliness; she would occupy herself and not fall into idleness. At first, her mother had proposed she stay with Lydia, but thankfully, Mrs. Wickham refused, specifying she needed the "apartment" for herself since she had to take care of two.

Mary was only too happy to comply since she had no wish to be Lydia's companion. No one did but for her mother and everyone was pleased with that arrangement.

The last Miss Bennet turned her attention to improving her German and Ancient Greek skills. Whilst she was knowledgeable in both French and Latin, she lacked the same dexterity at the other two.

Thus she set to work in her own room, carrying her books from the library in great excitement and scheduling every day to be a new improvement of her intellect.

Her small happiness was very comforting and she felt invigorated and refreshed to see she had activities to make her busy. She enjoyed learning, she always had and she only regretted having been too miserable in winter to read anything else than pompous writing by Burke or Gothic romances by Mrs. Radcliffe.

Now that she had set herself to work she found the task quite manageable. Whilst she had never enjoyed German she assured herself it was worth all her trouble, for, there might be times when she might be in need of it.

Though she wouldn't admit it to herself, she was thinking of the future in such terms and her studying also foresaw her plans of earning her own bread. Unconsciously, she knew what a woman could do on this Earth. Either become a wife or a governess. If fate secured her the second place she would be ready; after all, she had inclinations toward such things.

Mary rose every morning and washed herself with cold water before running down to the kitchen to help prepare breakfast. It was a little habit which she had enjoyed since childhood.

After an hour of eating in the company of her parents and sister she would retire to her room where she spent a good five hours studying.

Louise would sometimes bring her a cup of tea and some bread and butter, but she would not be too tempted to touch them until it was well in the afternoon.

At four o' clock she stopped her work and dined alone in the kitchen, for no one minded that she would usually do so and not join the family in the dining room at lunch time. In fact, most of the times, Mary could be seen joining them at breakfast only.

After having dined, she would take her coat and bonnet and venture on a stroll across the meadows. She had always believed that fresh air was necessary for those who strived mentally, rather than physically. It did well to the mind and reminded her of happier times with her sisters.

Usually, she would return in an hour and a half, after which she took a seat in the library and enjoyed some light reading. This continued long into the evening, until feeling too tired, she only went into the garden to water some of her favourite plants or help the maid feed the chicken.

Work in the house always cheered her up somehow and she felt very useful at times. Mary did feel a pang of guilt at not helping more, but she considered she had an entire lifetime to see to housework whilst the mind would decay if not attended to properly. She was utterly scared and tormented by the misfortune of being an ignorant and reaching a certain age when learning would be too late.

That would not do. Miss Bennet wanted to achieve as much knowledge as possible before she turned senile, poor thing. She did not want life to pass her without feeling she had accomplished her mind and heart's yearnings. She wished she could leave something behind after her death, but could not think of anything that would please and help humanity and that could be achieved by her.

Her only hope remained her books and she knew that through them she could reach high places. Surely, she could never attend universities like Cambridge, she was not allowed, but she desired to be at least worthy of attending. Somehow, whether she became a governess or not, she had to prove herself, she had to prove she could do more than that.

Many a times she scolded herself for not having been keener as a child. She had studied and read a great deal to entertain and comfort herself mostly. Only when she grew up to be a young lady did she aspire to greater things. Her inspiration had been Lizzie. Lizzie who, without so much knowledge and impressive accomplishments, could befuddle the wisest men of England!

Mary had not such charms, but she decided that she would come to show the world she could do great things as well, only her path would be different, it would be that of study and scholastic interests.

Women were undermined for they were considered indifferent to politics, books, art, law…anything which enticed the mind. She would be an exception, like many before her who had tried, but had failed admirably.

Not Mary Bennet, not her. She would succeed, some way or another.

Of course, such discourses she made to herself almost every day that passed, but bitterness would not shadow her bright thoughts.

Sometimes, she was in dire need of some books which could only be found in town, but not trusting her father to get her the right ones, she went herself and spent hours delving through them and helping her father with his purchases.

She hated town; it was a fact. In this she resembled her father completely, but, at length she grew considerably more tolerant to it, for it provided her with some things she could not find anywhere else. There were times, not few, when even the town could not offer her what she demanded, but she did not let this dampen her spirits.

Whilst Mary found nothing to sadden her or turn her melancholy, her father was having quite a different view on things.

Once a week, he locked himself up in his study and made some calculations on a yellow sheet of parchment which he showed to no one.

Many sums and numbers were spread on it as he cut and wrote under them new numbers and new sums which either made him frown or sigh.

He wished ardently to be able to leave his girls more than he could.

Even though Mrs. Bennet assured him there would be no trouble in Lydia finding a husband to provide for her, he knew better. He understood that whilst Lydia was pretty and charming in her way, she was by no means patient, kind and considerate. Though he had heard she had taken great care of her husband when he was ill, he thought that was the result of Lydia's pride and blind love for Wickham. If her husband had died in her hands, people would have considered her irresponsible and wicked. The truth was Lydia did not have half the attributes Kitty had when it came to being a good wife.

And he worried, like any father did, notwithstanding all the trouble this cheeky daughter had caused. Should she be left alone, she would have to take care of a baby as well, which was no easy business.

Perhaps he could sell this and do that…he thought bitterly. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

He didn't need so many servants, there weren't even half the people left in the house, he would dispose of three immediately.

Mr. Bennet knew he could never accept the help of Mr. Darcy again. After what he had done for him with Lydia and Wickham he had felt ashamed enough and he would only feel offended in the future if the deed was repeated.

Mr. Bingley was out of the question as well, for having sisters, a wife and surely, many children to come, knowing him and Jane, Charles wouldn't be able to spare too much for his two daughters and poor wife.

He could only hope that after his death, should they not be married, the two girls could perhaps stay with one of the families.

He knew his wife and Lydia wouldn't mind, but he fretted for Mary. She would never be content with such arrangement. As he knew her, she would try to find means for herself, but maybe her pride could be moulded with time. Surely, she would not hunger if she were offered a home.

When he thought of his third daughter and what he could provide for her, his heart swelled as he acknowledged the fact that, whatever he could give her would never be truly good enough.

He had noticed Mary was a woman of intellect. It was not money that kept her going and a humble home and enough to eat so she would not die of starvation would not do for her. Unless she raised herself in society, her skills would only come to ruin.

But he could not do much about it; it was up to her to elevate herself. He could only offer some small fortune for her sustenance and even that was scarce.

He felt somewhat relieved that his first daughters had married so well and knew he was quite a lucky man to have assured at least three of them good homes. Others could not do so even for one daughter.

He only hoped now, he would not die too soon. A grey thought for such a blithe man, but he saw his death as an end to others, not to himself.

March would soon come to an end and Mr. Bennet decided he would go visit Mr. Collins. He knew the man was proud and ignorant, likely not to lend an ear to his distress, but rather talk of his garden and pigs, yet some sense he must have since he married Charlotte.

He did not share this with his wife, but decided to go alone. Mrs. Bennet would find out eventually, but he would suffer her prattle obediently when the time came.

Now, all that was left was to find an opportunity for his departure which would not make rise for discussion. He waited the right time for this.

* * *

It was a bright, fairly warm afternoon when Mary went for her usual walk after her hours of study. She chose to follow the path that led to church, thinking she might be able to talk to the reverend, who was a Methodist and one of the wisest elders in the Shire. Discussions with him always brought her benefits for he recommended all sorts of books and materials she should perhaps inquire into. Not to mention, his advice on conduct was quite valuable as it encouraged moral growth.

The elder was not as well listened as when he talked to Mary, for there could be no better listener. They usually sat on a small wooden bench in the cemetery, overlooking the green valley at their feet as they engaged in talks of Saint Augustine of Hippo and the real cause of the original sin.

Such talks amused them both, but made Mary understand that people could have different opinions, different beliefs, but they all had a beating heart and hidden passions which they would enable on the world through their love for the essence of beauty. Beauty was in everything around her, beauty was in the mind. But the priceless and artless beauty, the pure and perfect one was inside a human being and it was shown in his creation.

'And how is your studying going?' he would ask of her.

'Fairly well, but I need more reading material from Hellenica, by Xenophon. I have read from Thucydides as much as I could, yet some parts still puzzle me. It is a pity you cannot be of any help, Sir.'

'My great passion and talent is Latin, I call it a talent for many of my colleagues tell me I have had no trouble in learning it so well.'

Such were their talks and they continued on subjects intricate and vast but troublesome, for many a times Mary disagreed with the old man.

Yet, he was a good listener as well and a good guidance in her tasks, for her parents did not give much encouragement.

Mrs. Bennet was quite pleased with her talks with him, since she considered her daughter did it more in the hope that the reverend's son might perhaps take an interest in her.

But as I was saying, Mary had gone on her usual walk that bright afternoon when a pretty carriage stopped in front of the Bennet house.

It was a well-known carriage and Mrs. Bennet did not even wait to fix her hair as she skipped outside happily to welcome her dear brother and his wife; the Gardiners.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had come late this year, for they had not had an opportunity to spend Christmas at Longbourn. They considered they could make up for the days lost by stopping by for a short while, which pleased Mrs. Bennet thoroughly.

Guests were always welcomed since they brought news and merriment to the silent, dull household. Mr. Bennet, who was not usually so cheerful at the prospect, was this time more interested in their arrival. He saw them as an opportunity to depart to Mr. Collins, without too much bother.

'Ah, how wonderful, you've come!' she exclaimed as she kissed her brother.

Mr. Gardiner looked prim and proper as always, showing his superiority in manner as he led the ladies inside the house, for they were making too much noise in the garden.

They all sat for tea and talked lengthily about the wedding and Kitty's excursion to Bath.

'They would have returned by now, you'd think! But, no! He has some business to attend to there so it's only good for them, they write regularly, but they promised to leave for Derbyshire at the end of this week,' Mrs. Bennet told them.

Mr. Gardiner spoke of his affairs in London and of the situation in the country. Politics were breached soon and Mrs. Bennet had to remain silent, but Mrs. Gardiner was kind enough to mention some new trifle from the capital and the two women started an idle talk of some new shops in London.

Mr. Bennet was not so keen on finding out more news from the war, since he read it in his newspaper daily and needed not to be reminded that the Parliament was praising and glorifying Wellington more than ever, but he was respectful enough to listen to all his brother-in-law had to mention.

'Do you know, it's getting on better and better, people have so much hope, nowadays! But I've told them all before; ever since 1813 things have been getting slowly better; the commercial crisis was brought to an end slowly but surely. That's how I like it. Slowly, but surely. I do not know if Europe is safe of the plots of Napoleon yet, but we can be almost sure England is. He has no chance of conquest now, unless we're all damned idiots and let all our efforts go to waste.'

'Quite so…quite so…' muttered Mr. Bennet.

'I must say I've been having my own ruckuses. Business has not been going so well as of late and we almost had to cancel our trip. Luckily, my dear Mrs. Gardiner is a crafty woman and she advised me to get a partner. This way, as we have no children and I am getting older by the minute, I shall be able to handle my business easier.

And I found a magnificent chap and friend in a Mr. Toddler. He has some small affairs with linen factories and before, he had worked in timber yards and had done a splendid job there…so it was very lucky of me to find him and he's young too. Very agreeable fellow and very well-read. The only glitch about him is that he's so damned paranoid all the time that he rarely does anything without his lawyer. He sticks with him in almost every tiding which is shameful for a man of his age, but I won't comment further.

He has done me good so I do not mind him not being thick-skinned. I've met many of those who had half his nerve and ambition. In any case, he has done wonders to the profits, we joined incomes and businesses, I might say, for I had to deal with linen and hoses so much that I can say I could do it for him. We've decided we shall call it Gardiner's and Toddler's. Before, it was only Gardiner's.'

'I am glad to hear of it, I was afraid there were problems…' Mr. Bennet spoke in his usual tone.

'If problems exist we must make do with them as we can, it is our fate,' spoke Mrs. Gardiner suddenly.

'And did you spend Christmas alone, you poor dears?' inquired Mrs. Bennet.

'Fret not, we had some company; London is very kind to us. We were invited by Mr. Toddler to his gathering. He is friends with many traders from his cloth industry and we cannot say they weren't all pleasing gentlemen, though few of them possessed manners as my husband's. It was a very entertaining evening, many apt men were to be found in the room and a great deal of charming ladies as well, though I confess, most of them were _not_ wives of the afore mentioned men,' continued Mrs. Gardiner.

'How lovely, it is a shame you couldn't have joined us though. Pemberley shone with delight, so many pleasing acquaintances, the Ball Room looked splendid and the dinner was impeccable; we had four assortments of cakes and we had both poultry and veal. Quite a feast,' added Mrs. Bennet proudly.

'Well, we do promise next year we shan't be as occupied as we were, but you can understand, what with business and everything, we could not refuse Mr. Toddler, at least not the first time. When we wrote to you we only told you we had too much on our hands to be able to leave London, but the truth was, we were not sure whether Mr. Toddler's party would be up to scratch so we were uncomfortable to speak offhand,' said Mr. Gardiner apologetically.

Mrs. Bennet was pleased enough and was thoroughly satisfied when she perceived their dinner at Pemberley had been infinitely superior to that of Mr. Toddler.

When tea was almost over, Lydia came down from her rest to welcome her aunt and uncle. However, neither was too warm and obliging. Mrs. Gardiner would barely look at her and it was Mr. Gardiner, who seeing her wretched state, decided to shake hands and inquire after her health.

A humbler soul would have kept their head down and answered politely, but Lydia brandished her belly with no shame and spoke in pained, condescending tones of her grief that her uncle gave it up eventually.

'And what news of the fashions of London, Mrs. Gardiner?' she asked.

'Not much, _dear_, I believe young ladies this year need only have a little white frock for good times and lace on their lapels to seem charming…' she replied coldly.

'Oh, how you laugh at me, Mrs. Gardiner,' Lydia replied laughing sweetly.

The other did not smile or show any sign of amusement, so, in the end Lydia had to retire, bidding her adieus after noticing her relatives would not pay much attention to her.

As she made her way up the stairs, muttering about how even uncles and aunts could be so rude, Mrs. Bennet took this opportunity to remind the Gardiners how they had been so kind to take Lizzie with them on their trip the year before.

'It was obliging of you, since we all know Lizzie had much luck thanks to your kind care. It is a pity poor Lydia cannot travel at such time, it would have done her so well to leave for a while and have a change of scenery. Poor thing, after such a tragedy…'

'Yes, it was unfortunate, but a woman is prone to suffer so…' said Mrs. Gardiner slightly put out.

'However, I was considering, perhaps Mary would be able to join you, if Lydia is confined to bed and well…I do think Mary…' stuttered Mrs. Bennet.

'Mary?' exclaimed Mrs. Gardiner. 'To come with us?'

'Why, yes, to London, it would do her well, she sits all day inside with her books, one should think it's a bit distressing. She has never been outside of Hertfordshire with the goal of travelling, mostly she went to see her sisters.'

Seeing Mrs. Gardiner's surprised face, Mrs. Bennet continued.

'Would that be a great bother? I should think Mary is quite well-bred…'

'Oh, no! It's nothing of the sort, we adore Mary, she is such a quiet, bright girl, but…I was under the impression she hated town, especially London.'

Mr. Bennet could not help chuckling silently.

Mrs. Bennet intervened flustered.

'Hate London?' she asked scandalized. 'Heavens no! The poor child simply cannot get enough of the outdoors! Why, as I have told you when you came, she is out on a walk, but this could only mean she wishes to go out more. I tell you, she goes with her father to town every time she…well every time and London would be such an attraction to her for you know…she is quite elevated, what would a small town do for her?'

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner looked at each other doubtfully, but as they liked Mary just as well as Lizzie, they only nodded silently and talked of how this journey was to be planned.

* * *

'You told them what?' Mary asked baffled.

'I did it for your own good, dear, now lower your voice, Lydia is trying to sleep!'

'Where have they gone to? I must speak to them immediately…'

'Hush, dear, hush, they went to call on the Lucases, but calm down and sit,' ordained Mrs. Bennet.

'How could you tell them I love town and am _particularly_ partial to London?'

'I did not say so exactly, I merely implied you would like to go out more often, look how every afternoon you go wondering on those meadows by yourself!'

'I simply take my exercise, for heaven's sake it is nothing of the sort you think! Mama, I do not like towns, you know that well, we must tell the Gardiners the truth, instead of making them spend on my account.'

'Spend on your account! Well, whom should they spend on? They have no children, they would die buried with the money? Besides, London will do you very well, you will see, it is…all so different…and so fascinating for a curious mind such as yours.'

'What is so fascinating about London?'

'Well…just think of all the charming youths of your age you could meet, who could be such amiable friends…'

'Why don't you tell me what this is all really about, mother! You want me to go with the Gardiners because you believe they enabled Lizzie to get married. Is that your actual intention? London would offer me chances to…'

'It's true that _did_ cross my mind, but why is it so bad for me to hope you would enter a more distinguished society? It's not like I even hope you could do anything here! It's good enough I tried with Kitty and look where it got.'

'She married the Colonel, the man she loved and a very honourable man at that!'

'I know that very well, but he's not Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley. If Kitty married only the Colonel, then I assumed you could not do better. But here is a chance! Mary, dear, here is a chance not only to meet new people but to broaden your horizons. Perhaps all your mentalities about tradesmen and middle-class gentlemen will end when you discover how pleasing they are!'

'And the only means for me to do so is go to London?'

'What better place?'

Mary scowled and turned to leave, but her mother pulled her by the hand gently and took the book out of her hand.

'I see you are still interested in Ancient Greek. I never had the fortune to study it. Wouldn't you be needing a new grammar book? I happened to hear you couldn't find one in town. In London, dear, you could find as many grammars as you like.'

Mary raised her eyebrow, but said nothing.

'Why, you don't believe me? The best libraries and book-shops are not in Hertfordshire, for goodness' sake. The place of study, law, politics and anything to occupy the mind is in London! And all the other places show no sparkle as the capital which is so busy and delightful, especially this time of year.'

Mary pondered her mother's words as she thumbed her book.

'I…I admit you have a point there.'

'And, I would have told you earlier if you had let me, but Mr. Gardiner promised me he would take you to some offices of trades and law to see how the work is done. He'll show you the books and everything! Is not that pleasing to you?'

Mary wrinkled her brows in consent but said nothing.

'Come now, you shall only stay for a fortnight if you wish it so. Your father will be joining you, he wants to check his will again, I told him not to be so morbid, but he would not listen.'

She looked up surprised.

'Father is coming as well?'

'Only for a short while…he will return home in two days. And he thinks it's an ingenious idea…'

Seeing as her daughter gave her a look she corrected herself.

'Alright, alright, he thought it was a nice idea, since…since he would like you to see the capital for once.'

Mary sighed and headed for the stairs in thought.

'Well…I guess…Hm… I guess it wouldn't be so bothersome. I guess…I could go.'

'Oh! I knew you would come to your senses,' her mother exclaimed happily as she walked with her to her room.

_There! Who can reproach me that I__ do not know my daughters well? _Mrs. Bennet thought smiling slyly.

* * *

It was well established. Mary Bennet would leave for London with her aunt and uncle in but three days. The Gardiners had to hurry back home, the business was not so safe to abandon for too long a time, but Mrs. Bennet did not complain and only busied herself with Mary's luggage.

Lydia was so jealous and displeased that she barely spoke to anyone and only opened her mouth to accuse her uncle of favouring Mary.

No one minded her too much in these circumstances, but the new attention Mary had received did not make her as happy as Lydia would have been in her place.

Her annoyance with her mother was slight, but it was kindled by her wandering in her room all the time, fetching new clothes and emptying her wardrobe.

Mary sat at the window on her last night home and watched the sky. The stars weren't many but it was enough to make one wistful. It would be a clear, sunny day tomorrow, the skies seemed peaceful.

She wondered how it would be. She wondered how London would be. Questions in her mind could not yet be answered, but she was encouraged by her father's accompanying her.

It was her first real outing, for her visits to Derbyshire and Kent could not be called outings. This time she would have no sister to care for or parent to attend. It was almost frightening. Mary Bennet had been taught from an early age to sit behind or apart from the others and watch from afar. She would cling to Jane or Lizzie when she was little or hide under her father's cloak when no sister was there.

Then she had taken care of Lydia and Kitty when she grew older and from then on it had been a known path of shadows for her. But she had been pleased with this arrangement, she was embarrassed to go out in public. Her faults and shortages pained her for she thought herself unworthy of company. She believed herself ignorant and thought that when she had enough knowledge to perhaps become a good governess, she might have the courage to try and converse with those around her.

Until then, silence was her only attribute in large groups. This is not to say she did not possess some skills of conversation; it was obvious from her talks with Georgiana she enjoyed them, but her inferiority complex kept her at a distance.

At times, she thought this a virtue. But as she grew older, she discovered it was more and more a handicap. She was who she was, however and improvement could only be acquired with patience and persistence.

Maybe this trip would suit her, maybe not. She would try and make the best of it and if she returned home with nothing improved in her manner, she would at least have purchased some long-yearned books.


	20. Chapter 20

_**This chapter was again tricky since I am not a dweller of London and I do not know all its ins and outs, but I shall document myself more in the future. I tried my best and if the atmosphere is not that of real London, I apologize and encourage you to give me some piece of advice about it. In any case, thank you all for your reviews and hope you enjoy reading. **_

Chapter 20: London!

There were many ways Mary could have described the journey by carriage that she suffered with the Gardiners and her father. Pleasant was not one of them.

She had left very early in the morning, the sun had not risen yet, but everyone was ready to go so she had to comply.

Struggling with the luggage to the vehicle while listening to her mother's shrill voice had been one thing, but the awful silence that followed afterwards was unbearable.

Mary had never enjoyed too much gab or noise, but this time she found the quietness disturbing. Her father was deep in thought and looked so worried about something which she could not tell, that she fretted to ask him anything.

Mr. Gardiner had not slept much the night before so he was quite drowsy, making him perfectly still and, if he did not talk, his wife did not durst to either.

Mary frowned and thought she would never let herself be bullied into silence by anyone. Of course, it was her wish not to talk, but she liked to feel she _could_ talk if she wanted to.

She leant against the window looking out at the grey sky. Rain was coming soon and she would probably see a mucky, grubby London.

But as the carriage passed the hills in silence she wondered whether she should expect more; perhaps it would not be a tedious trip; perhaps she would find some joy in exploring the vast city, though she doubted that under the strict vigilance of the Gardiners, she would have any of that.

However, even little was good enough. She desired to feast her eyes upon the libraries and offices and firms and shops and all those little trinkets she saw in the shop windows. It would be exciting to see all that was new to her, at least for some days.

She would write to her mother and Kitty and maybe…maybe the Colonel and her could come to London a bit, that would be nice.

_No. Stop doing that, she's not just your sister anymore. She's also a wife. She already has someone to care for her, you cannot provide that anymore. Is not this better?_

She doubted it. With all her insecurities, it felt better to have someone to look after.

At length, she let her eyes drop from tiredness and fell into a deep slumber which she had denied herself since five in the morning.

* * *

'Mary, Mary, wake up. We've arrived!'

Someone was shaking her and she almost had half a mind to tell that person off, when she realised she wasn't at home and Mrs. Gardiner wasn't one of her sisters.

She instantly looked up and saw her smiling face.

When Mary dared look out the carriage an over-whelming sight appeared in front of her.

The tall towers and buildings heaved upon her with their cemented breath as streets wound and narrowed into little alleys, darkened by shade. In front of her, an open market flanked its little shops and stalls neatly across the dirty pavement as chimney sweeps strolled smirking with their brooms on their shoulders.

Women shouted at the top of their lungs, exposing garments which oozed their bosoms out like fresh flowers in a spring morning. Sweat glided down their forehead as they slapped their little children to be quiet.

Carts blocked the road as many barrels were thrown in the street and some strong lads picked them up and ran with them to a tall, red-bricked building that exerted smoke through a thick-looking chimney.

Old linden trees and acacias bowed down when the wind swept through them and released their flowers and scent upon the lucky pedestrians who hurried to their daily tasks. She saw birds soaring in the sky, chanting wearily as no one listened and she felt a tingly feeling in her stomach when she saw so many faces, so many places, so much movement.

She could see even from here the Palace of Westminster like a brooding shadow that arched its columns and frowned at every visitor who did not pay it their right service.

'Ye get inside now, ye wonderin' fool!' an elderly man shouted at a young man who stood out of an office talking to a young girl wearing no bonnet.

The gilded sign wrote "Boucle's" and the man appeared to be a clerk there who had taken an inopportune break from his duties.

'Conquestin', aye?' the elder continued mockingly. 'Cow lasses make ye want to quit, aye?'

'Half a penny and all you can get about The Sixth Coalition in the Courrier! Come buy it, save yourself a penny, get it with ha'penny. Come ye, don't you wish to know how Paris goes?' a young lad was yelling with all his might, flagging his newspapers.

So many beautiful houses rose seemingly out of dust before her, their little gardens prim and proper, their front doors coloured and bright and the curtains drawn up to reveal a perfectly comfortable parlour, but around them, a chaos of noise and movement made them appear as crowded and crammed.

She saw with delight how they entered Piccadilly and her mouth, which had fallen agape anyway, echoed yelps of wonder. She stood at the window and couldn't take her eyes off all she saw, all the people and their odd countenance, all the hustle of the city.

She had never enjoyed towns or crowds, but she felt pleased to drive through London in a carriage, not taking part in the bustle but rather watching it from afar and admiring its vigour.

'Is not it so wonderful and at the same time wicked, Mary dear?' asked Mrs. Gardiner knowingly.

'Why yes…it is not what I expected.'

'Now, Mary, do not act like this is a new country, it's only the capital. If you saw Paris at this time…that would be a treat,' her father spoke for the first time and Mary blushed self-conscious.

'Now let her be excited if she wishes! It's not every day a young girl like her gets to see this,' Mr. Gardiner said.

'Quite true, you'll see Mary, London has much to entertain. Jane thought so too, in fact she fell in love with the theatre here. If you can ignore all this artificial haste, you can actually look upon an admirable, ancient city,' Mrs. Gardiner added.

'Now…we need to arrive in Southwark Street which is …well some miles ahead. Of course, if you first prefer to have a bite to eat, I do not think Greta, our cook, prepared anything.'

'No, we'd better go and rest and put the luggage away,' Mary spoke firmly and her father smiled pleased.

Those miles ahead were quite many, but she waited obediently until they reached a very pretty dwelling, with blue curtains at the windows and a flight of stairs at the door. It was white and grey, but it looked very welcoming.

'Well, it's humble, but quite something in this part of town; it's well furnished, compared to the Nickelbots'. They have a preposterously large house, but they barely have two couches,' said Mrs. Gardiner, but Mary did not think the house small and humble at all. It was almost as large as a country house and she wondered if her aunt really considered her dwellings modest or simply tried to seem unaffected.

Another gruelling struggle with luggage was overcome and she was comfortably set in her room, which was a neat little bedroom with a wardrobe and a desk. She felt quite cosy and she installed all her possessions immediately, wanting to go down and see the rest of the house.

For only two people living in it, the house was greatly lavished. She truly could not see the logics of it being so, since they had no children, but she supposed they deserved their luxury as long as it was gained honestly.

The drawing room was decidedly her favourite room since it contained an ample library. Her spirits were dampened, however, to discover most of them covered aspects of economics, business and very few with the History of the Jacobs.

These were not such pleasing subjects, but she would not care so much, for she had all London to search for books. The dining room was very festive all the time, since her aunt and uncle usually had many guests, especially now since Mr. Gardiner had acquired Mr. Toddler as a partner.

Good china could always be seen on the table, which was rarely put out at home since the Bennets never received such visits; her father loathed them.

Mr. Bennet took some rest in his chambers and decided he would go to the law office tomorrow morning, at a sharp hour, or so he told his daughter and relatives. He refused to have some supper right away, since he wished to be alone to meditate upon his course of action the morrow.

He knew his behaviour was making Mary worry, but he could not help it. He only smiled at her encouragingly and went on to his business silently whilst she was guided by her aunt and uncle through the house.

'Here we keep some old likenesses…' said Mr. Gardiner as he led her to a room that sported a pianoforte and many lovely sofas and chairs, around some card tables. The walls were adorned with odd-looking paintings.

He stopped short in front of the portrait of a very stout looking man, mounted on his horse and surveying what seemed to be a valley with his binoculars.

'What think you? Who does he look like so firm up there?' asked her uncle.

'Er…Captain Wellington?'

_What does he wish me to say?_

Her uncle frowned and coughed upset.

'Poo! Him! He's no good. That's my great grand-father, Augustus! Many say I am the spitting image of him, his son took after his mother and so forth...'

'Was he really…a red coat?'

'Heavens, no! He simply sat the portrait, he dealt with trade.'

'Oh,' she let out disappointed. So much for chivalry in the family…

Appearances could not be ignored, no matter how false.

'Now you stop bragging about your ancestors already, a bunch of upset fellows with no sense of humour! Better come with me, Mary, I'll show you our pianoforte.'

She was grateful her aunt saved her from further embarrassment, but when Mrs. Gardiner launched herself in a tedious story of how she had purchased this wonderful object she unfortunately "had no talent for", Mary regretted having left Mr. Gardiner.

She wondered if she was allowed to play, but she considered she had given up. She did not know what to play that would please them, anyway. Yet, the sight of such a comfort made her heart beat faster as she remembered old times when she would not leave the instrument for a second.

'But you know how to play, do not you, Mary?'

'Oh, I did at one time, but I have lost my skill…I suppose…'

'But you can practice here, then!'

She smiled obediently, but she doubted she would.

'Who will entertain us when we have guests, after all?'

She looked up alarmed. If there was one thing she loathed more than town, it was gatherings with food and play and such triviality that it made her stomach turned upside down.

She would find a way to escape those, if she could. Perhaps faking a headache would work.

The tour of the house and all their clamorous talk lasted for two hours, after which Mary was thankful to return to the solitude of her room.

She had thrown herself on the bed, ready to close her eyes, when a maid entered her chamber boldly, without bothering to knock.

'Dinner is a'ready, Missus,' she stuttered.

'Now?' she almost wailed.

The maid looked at her confused, as if she had not understood the question.

'Nevermind…I'll be down promptly.'

'Better change ye clothes, Missus…' the maid spoke again.

Mary blinked with disbelief. _How audacious of her!_

'Why should I?'

'Mrs. Gardiner don't like…plain clothes for dinner.'

_Plain! This is one of my best…oh, why do I bother…_

'I was not intending to wear it anyway,' she added wearily and shut the door.

* * *

Is the reader really keen on finding out how this unfortunate dinner went? Perhaps you have already gathered that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner _did_ indeed take much pride in their home and only continued their prattle throughout the meal, though they spared Mary to talk of her itinerary for the next days. They seemed keen on planning it all for her and what could she do but consent to it? She was only a guest, after all.

It was almost the end of the meal and she was sipping from her glass of wine tiredly, being slightly put off that her first day had been spent inside, when the audacious maid returned to announce that Mr. Bennet had called Mary to him.

She was surprised to hear it, but relieved to leave the table and join her father. She knocked at his door carefully and was allowed in, where she discovered her father sitting in the armchair, by the window with the newspaper on his lap.

Many sheets of paper were scattered across his desk, but she chose not to inquire about them as she noticed her father looked exhausted.

'You called, papa?'

'I did, Mary, come here.'

She obeyed and sat on the opposite chair across from him, looking up expectantly.

'You are probably wondering why I called. I wanted to discuss some things with you.' He paused. 'I guess this is also a chance to apologise for not acting much like a father today and for hiding in my room all this time.'

Mary started to protest but he did not let her.

'But you must understand, I have been very much worried these past days and I didn't know what to do, up until recently. I chose to hide some things, but perhaps I can trust you, for I am in need of your help this time, Mary.'

'What is bothering you father and how can I help?'

He sighed and put his hand on hers.

'I need you to keep a secret for me. I won't be returning home from London. No, no, don't be scared, I'm not eloping at my age! I simply need to pay a visit. To Mr. Collins…but your mother and sister must not know.'

'Mr. Collins?' she asked surprised. 'Why do you wish to visit him and why without mother knowing?'

'I have issues to discuss with him which would displease your mother. I can hardly lie to her, this was hard enough, but I'd rather keep this away from her, for a while. At least to see how this visit advantages me.'

'Why…why need you talk to him?'

But she already knew the answer to that and her eyes darted to the papers on his desk. He noticed it and smiled.

'You're quite bright Mary, I'm sure you already know…'

'Papa…you do not need to lower yourself like that…'

'I won't beg for help Mary! But the man must have some sense, there must be something I can do…'

'Why must you try so hard?' Mary insisted.

'For whom do you think I try?'

She bowed her head ashamed.

'Mary, dear…I am not putting myself out too much. I'll give it a try, if it leads to nowhere, I'll content myself with the fact that I need my sons-in-law to provide for my two single daughters.'

Mary admitted to herself she wouldn't like that, but would acquiesce nevertheless.

'What…what is it that you want me to do?'

He grinned and caressed her hand.

'I will be some days away. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner would offer to write to your mother, but you should try and persuade them otherwise, tell them you would rather keep in touch with her solely since you would have so many things to tell her. I will tardy some days in which time you must write to your mother that I am still in London, dealing with some unfinished business at my will. Tell it so that she does not worry much, for any modification to it brings panic to her. After all these years, she still believes me capable of foolish acts. That is all I would need you to do, Mary. I would need you to make her believe I am still in London until I return, of course. I promise she will find out about my visit, eventually.'

She grasped the full meaning of his words and nodded absently. She would not be lying to her family for the first time.

'A-alright then…but please be careful and return promptly home, do not tardy a single day,' she insisted.

'My dear, I do not believe that Mr. Collins' _lovely_ manners would keep me there more than three days, at most.'

She laughed pleased and already thought of how she would write to her mother.

'And you'll tell the Gardiners you're leaving?'

'Yes, I shall leave the day after tomorrow, they will know that I have departed home, but you and I, Mary, would know different,' he said winking at her.

She felt a bit excited; her father and she shared a secret. It was a rare case, since he had never entrusted her with such ordeals.

'I see you're gleeful at the opportunity of fooling your mother,' he added.

'Indeed, I could not let this chance pass…'

'Do not let London pass you either, Mary. Do not let the Gardiners rule you completely. London has its charm, especially for young ladies.'

'I do not know how I'll like it, but entertainment does not interest me so.'

'Haha! I used to speak like that when I was young and then I realised no one believed me, including myself! Ah, Mary youth _is_ wasted on the young. Do not be so bitter about life.'

'I am not, papa. But life isn't simply an endless laughter, life is full of beauty and discovery. A woman can't do so much to elevate herself.'

'Do not look down upon your sex, they can do much if they but put their mind to it, I am sure you could, Mary.'

'If I am given a chance…'

'You are given one every moment, you need but take it.'

* * *

Mary had entertained the view that Mr. Gardiner seemed too worldly and comfortable with his situation and did not exert himself so much to deserve his name. The next day she had to admit that she wasn't entirely correct.

Mr. Gardiner woke her up quite early and immediately told her he would take her on foot across Central London to have a good look at some wonderful constructions and shops. She was surprised to know he enjoyed walking so much and was delighted at his proposal.

'I have some business to attend to as well, but I'll keep you in sight. You can explore the surroundings whilst I step into some offices a bit.'

Mary agreed happily and put on one of her nicer gowns, not forgetting the money her father had given her for books. She was quite thrilled to be out so early and to wander on the streets the entire morning and midday.

Mrs. Gardiner wished them luck and wanted to pack them something to eat, but Mr. Gardiner proposed they dine out, at which Mary nodded pleased.

Thus away they went!

Mornings were always quieter, especially since it was Friday, but the air was thick with the smell of carts, horses, burnt coal and lime.

The streets were half-crowded, half-empty and she felt some freedom in walking beside her uncle, who stood erect and proud, holding her hand.

Everywhere she looked, Mary found something to pique her curiosity, even though she hardly admitted it to herself.

At last, she found a bookshop next to one of the churches and she decided she would loiter for a while there. Her uncle was pleased and told her he would be waiting for her whilst he would be checking with some acquaintances across the street.

'Call me if you need anything, I shall be close by,' he told her and left her to her own schemes.

Mary was delighted and she entered the shop which she wouldn't leave for another hour.

Inside there wasn't much space, not as much as she would have liked, but so many books adorned the walls that it made her skip with joy as she strolled across the panelled walls and thumbed each volume carefully.

Every shelf offered a new pleasure and many a times she was tricked into sitting down and reading through one of the volumes, until the shop assistant coughed loudly as warning. She then blushed and placed the book under her elbow, clearly considering purchasing it.

After the best of an hour had passed Mary was struggling hard to carry no more, no less than five and twenty books of all sizes. Other customers peered at her curiously and the shop assistant literally opened his mouth in surprise as she declared happily she would buy them all. Her face was glowing and it seemed there was no end to her joy.

'All? Are you sure, madam?'

'Yes, I am quite sure,' she replied hotly. She was giving the largest portion of her money on them, but she had picked the most indispensable.

'Very well then…but…I shall tie them up for you. It will be a bit tedious to carry…'

'No matter, no matter!' she replied looking at the shelves she had left and considering she should perhaps inspect them again, lest she had not skimmed through the books properly.

'Very well then,' the man in front of her huffed, toiling with the volumes.

At length, she exited the shop carrying her load of books tied with a string together. They had been placed in three packages wrapped in paper and she could barely see in front of her because of them, as her head was completely hidden.

For a moment she feared that being alone with this load, someone might attempt to sway her and steal her books, but she considered not many people stole books in those times.

As she turned the corner ready to call for her uncle, she noticed he was some feet away talking anxiously to a young man, fashionably dressed and sporting a top hat.

She squeezed her eyes to have a better view and she almost yelped.

_Mr. Prowler! What is he doing here?_

But then she remembered his offices were in London. It would not be a shocking thing to see him on the street, yet she felt slightly panicked.

_Why is he talking to my uncle? What do they have to share, anyway? But I will wait until he leaves, I will not face him after what happened at the wedding._

She felt a new gush of anger take over her as she recalled his behaviour.

Mr. Prowler was, indeed, sharing some light conversation with Mr. Gardiner, but nothing of the sort to make young men too focused, thus, from the corner of his usually observant eye, the young lawyer noticed a woman's figure watching them at the corner of the street.

At first he was not sure what to think, but when he saw the packages of books, all doubts left him. He smiled mischievously and pointed towards her corner.

'Is that the niece you have told me of, Mr. Gardiner? I think I saw her at the wedding.'

Mary observed the two men had turned their eyes on her.

_Why are they looking at me? Oh, no._

She quickly hid behind the wall but it was too late.

'Mary, dear, is that you?' her uncle called.

'Are you hiding, Miss Bennet?' another voice called and she grimaced at knowing whose it was.

Breathing, she straightened herself as best as she could and calmed herself before turning the corner with dignity.

She held her head up and refused to look at him, seeming as if she had never tried to escape them. Unfortunately, her bravado was much lessened by the fact that her head was hidden by her many books.

She reached their corner and bowed stiffly, almost dropping the books.

'Careful, dear,' Mr. Gardiner said holding her.

'Yes, Miss Bennet, it would be a shame to ruin that perfect barricade you have constructed,' added Mr. Prowler.

She would have loved to reply to that, but unfortunately she was trying to find her balance again.

Mr. Prowler stepped up and took one of her packages from her arms.

'There! I usually like to see the faces of the people I talk to.'

She scowled and tried reaching for her books.

'I'd appreciate if you gave them back, Sir.'

'Mary, dear, Mr. Prowler is only trying to assist you,' Mr. Gardiner intervened helping her be rid of the weight by taking one of the packages himself. 'Are you sure you did not take all their books, my dear? Oh, but this is how she is, Mr. Prowler.'

He laughed mirthfully whilst Mr. Prowler only smirked down at her.

_How utterly embarrassing…_

'Oh, but where are my manners! Mary, are you acquainted with Mr. Prowler? He is Mr. Toddler's lawyer, the partner I've been telling you about.'

Mary groaned inwardly.

_Of all the lawyers in London…_

'He tells me he has been acquainted with you and your sisters for a while. But you probably saw him at the wedding as well, did you not?'

'Yes, I have, I've been acquainted with him since I visited Jane.'

'Oh, how lovely then! I always loathe having to introduce people, it is so awkward for one, very indeed. Well, you might know, Mary, Mr. Prowler is also helping Mr. Darcy with some affairs.'

'Yes…I have heard of that,' she said keeping her eyes adverted to the ground.

'But he has time for poor Mr. Toddler as well, do you not? It's quite tedious when a man cannot handle anything on his own, but then again he pays well, my lad, does not he?'

'Quite well, considering he is quite a miser at other things,' Mr. Prowler said.

'Well then, Mary, you do not expect us to walk the streets with these books! We will have to call for a carriage, but we will have something to eat on our way home, how does that sound?'

Mary nodded embarrassed and held her books firmly. She would have felt disappointed had the circumstances been different, but she was perfectly content to leave.

'Mr. Prowler, could you mind her a while whilst I call for a cab?'

'It would not be any bother, Sir,' he said grinning.

Mr. Gardner scurried off without replying and left Mary holding her books miserably.

'Lovely to see you decided to try London, Miss Bennet. Your uncle told me all about your grand adventure!' he spoke mockingly.

'It's such a misfortune I am in want of good company, though,' she added acidly.

'Oh, and here I thought you esteemed your aunt and uncle.'

She scowled and decided to take issue with something else.

'I am wondering why you accepted to stay with me here, after all, I was under the impression that you did not wish to be seen with me or make believe you are in my company,' she said alluding to their dance at the wedding.

He looked confused at her for a moment, but then it dawned on him.

She felt pleased to see him surprised, but his trademark smirk returned immediately, not wishing to lose the battle of wits.

'Ah, typical of females! Only they can keep such a silly grudge. I guess you are not an exception, Miss Bennet. Perhaps you felt affected by it since I did not notice you dancing with anyone else that night.'

If her hands had been free, she would have not shied from slapping him right across the face. Her anger flared.

'Typical of females! Better so than an immature child with no sense of honour!'

_Oh, that sounded stupid…damn._

'Well, you are starting to sound like one Miss Bennet and it's really not the way to win me.'

_Win you? Ha! _

'Then explain why you lied in front of your acquaintances,' she added uncertain.

'I am afraid I do not have to do anything, it is none of your concern, Miss Bennet,' he said smiling.

She turned her head annoyed and kept quiet.

'Come now, were you that offended? I did not think it would mean so much to you. I suppose I should feel flattered.'

'Not at all!' she retorted. 'I only do not like it when people, especially _gentlemen_ act so impudent.'

'Then you should know that I am no gentleman and if you ever had such illusions, I'm afraid they must be shattered. I am only what you see, Miss Bennet,' he said seriously. 'Nothing more.'

At that moment Mr. Gardiner came up, gasping for breath as he took off his hat to cool down.

'Alright, I found us a nice one, it's just down the street, it's a miracle I did though. So much demand, these days!'

Mary felt slightly relieved and she turned her back to follow her uncle, but Mr. Prowler took hold of her elbow and placed the package of books in her already full arms.

'Do not forget you valuable possessions,' he added and bowed.

'Well, I am sorry we had to be so brief, Mr. Prowler, but we will discuss more tonight at dinner, won't we?'

Mary turned alarmed.

'What?'

Luckily, no one heard her as her uncle guided her to the carriage.

'Certainly, Sir, I shan't miss it,' Mr. Prowler said and raised his hat, departing promptly.

As they climbed into the carriage, Mary felt more and more irritated and wanted to question her uncle, but he was immersed in his own thoughts and talked only of how the grain stocks had lowered considerably.

'Oh, but you shall hear more of it tonight, Mr. Toddler is much more informed of it. Oh, that's right, I didn't tell you! Oh, we've planned to have Mr. Toddler for dinner tonight, together with Mr. Prowler, who has become quite a favourite of Mrs. Gardiner's. We often invite poor Mr. Toddler, for his cook is not very skilled and he dines mostly alone, poor soul, he cannot always take advantage of Prowler's presence.'

'I see…' she replied and turned her head to the view outside.

'You'll see, you'll like Mr. Toddler, he's a very modest young man and his lawyer is very amiable, is he not?'

Mary could barely hold her snort.

* * *

That afternoon, Mary only sat up on her bed together with her books and skimmed through every one of them pleased, not being sure which to start first as she gathered them all in a pile in her lap. She felt content to have such a fortune she esteemed highly. The only slight buzzing in her head was the meeting she had had with the impolite lawyer, but she already considered dinner would not be so much trouble.

Already Mrs. Gardiner was busying herself since she always liked to appear very welcoming to Prowler. Mary could not understand what her aunt and uncle saw as amiable in the man, but she gathered she would not find out soon.

She would be satisfied if she saw as little of him as possible, however.

Her father would be joining them for dinner, since he planned on departing first thing in the morning and she felt comforted by his presence there. Prowler would not dare take issue with her if her father was there.

Mrs. Gardiner burst in at that moment without paying any excuses as she fumbled with some pieces of cloth in her hand. She looked quite anxious and Mary wondered whether someone in that house ever bothered to knock.

'Mary, darling have you seen Anita?'

_That rude maid?_

'No, I have not, why do you ask?'

'Oh, I can't find her anywhere and I need some help with the table.'

'I can be of service, if you wish,' she said out of politeness, but instantly regretted it when Mrs. Gardiner took her by the hand happily and led her to the dining room. Sometimes she was too kind for her own good.

She was sent to the kitchen to check on the meal and whilst she surveyed the many pots boiling angrily on the stove, she noticed a small door that led to the back garden.

Curious as always, she pushed open the door and peered through it.

The skies had darkened and the garden looked perfectly still, though, admittedly, it seemed to be forgotten and less handsome than the front one, for no one bothered with it if no one could see it. Let the facet be pretty, who could care less about what lurked on the other side?

And this was available as rule in London, England, wherever one travelled. She then did not wonder why Lydia, though quite spoilt and cheeky, was admired on account of her charming looks.

Suddenly, her ear caught strange whimpering sounds, barely audible.

She noticed the small gate was open and as she walked to it, she discovered a small alley between two ribbon shops whence the sounds came.

She was a bit apprehensive and did not know how to act, but the person seemed to be in trouble, so she trod on confidently.

She turned the corner and hoped the person wasn't injured when she came across a sight she would not soon forget.

Anita was thrown against the wall, with her arms by her side shamefully as she was being taken by a young man who had a very rough appearance. His trousers were let down considerably and she saw his dirty, hairy legs in the dim light.

It was then she knew that those sounds had been Anita's moans of pleasure and she instantly felt sick, horribly sick and wanted nothing else but to be buried in a hole and stay there. She shut her eyes and quickly ran away, locking the small gate after her.

_I've seen one too many such things…_

She now was very disposed at helping Mrs. Gardiner, anything not to have to remember the scene or worse, be sent to look for Anita.

At seven o' clock sharp the Gardiners, Mary and her father reunited in the dining room to wait for the guests that were soon to come.

The doorbell rang but of course, Anita was not there to answer. Mary rose immediately and offered to attend at the door, lest Mrs. Gardiner called for Anita insistently.

The two gentlemen were welcomed into the hall as they stepped in and Mary became acquainted with a mousy-haired man of two and thirty, with a lanky figure and dull eyes, who spoke hastily and checked his watch constantly. This was Mr. Toddler and he did look frightened, poor soul, no wonder he was attached to his lawyer so.

'Good evening…it's rather chilly outside…' he spoke unsure giving Mary his hat. 'Girl, take this to the wardrobe…'

Mr. Prowler followed behind, smirking amused at the scene.

'Oh, Sir, I am not a servant. My name is Mary Bennet, I'm a guest here.'

Mr. Toddler's eyes widened in remorse and he hastily took his hat back and bowed apologetically, kissing her head.

'Oh, Lord…I…I am terribly sorry. Mr. Gardiner has told me of his nieces, you must be one of them…I did not know…' he stuttered sweating all over.

'You have nothing to be sorry for, you could not know, Sir, the maid is not to be found.'

'But they shouldn't have made you go instead Miss...' he said bowing once more. 'My name is Toddler. Arthur Toddler, perhaps you h-have heard of me?'

He dropped his hat and tried picking it up, but Mary took it for him and he only ended up hitting his head on the small coffee table placed there.

He rose, rubbing his head excusing himself and pretending nothing had happened as he straightened his back.

She smiled kindly. 'I have, my uncle has praised you many a times, but let us join them in the dining room.'

Mr. Toddler smiled meekly and strolled stiffly in the house whilst Mary waited on him.

'Why, no good evening for me, Miss Bennet?' asked James faking distress.

'You can let yourself in, Mr. Prowler…' she said leading the way.

'How very audacious of you…Anita cannot be found? How unfortunate they sent you for her tasks.'

'Why do you say so?'

'Well, Anita was much…friendlier,' he said grinning.

_Idiot…_

When all were seated at the table Mary thought he would fall back to his snide comments, but surprisingly, James stood erect and serious, never sparing her a glance and talked smoothly to Mrs. Gardner and Arthur, assuring them the grains stock would rise soon in summer, whilst frowning pensively when no one was addressing him.

His manners were quite impeccable and he did not dare say anything impolite for some time. She stood facing him next to her father, who found pleasure in discussing with him and wondered whether they knew his true character.

But Mary did not have time to examine his conduct too deeply for she was interested in the talk as well and listened keenly. From time to time she would add a small comment, but the only one surprised by it was Mr. Toddler.

'Oh, I had no idea the lady was so…so well a-acquainted with politics and economy, how wonderful!'

'Yes, our Mary reads and studies a great deal,' said Mrs. Gardiner proudly. 'She is quite scholastic, I tell her she tries a great deal too hard, but she enjoys it.'

'How lovely to hear a f-female is indulging in study and knowledge, an accomplished lady…is most…most admirable,' he said flustered.

Mary smiled humbly and thanked him meekly, but decided Mr. Toddler was the only one who saw her as accomplished.

'Speaking of which,' said Mr. Gardiner, 'I promised Mary I would take her to see some offices in London, preferably trades or law…I was wondering Mr. Prowler if you could perhaps allow us to visit your offices some time, when convenient, perhaps we could stop by a couple of times. I already arranged for Mary to come with me to Mr. Toddler's office and mine.'

Mr. Prowler looked at Mary probably for the first time since they sat down and his eyes were not mocking her, but simply questioning her.

'Does Miss Bennet wish so?' he asked slowly.

'I would, it would be a good opportunity for me to learn some things,' she spoke boldly.

_After all, no one will talk me into not doing something. His cheeky manners towards me are no reason to bring myself to his level._

'Very well then…' he said nodding politely.

'I would be quite pleased to attend to M-Miss Bennet, we would be honoured, of course…' sputtered Mr. Toddler lowering his head humbly.

'Thank you, Sir, you're very kind,' Mary said.

Arthur felt quite lucky to be so warmly addressed, since you have probably noticed, dear reader, that he was not such a firm character as to entice respect.

'Arthur gets quite swayed by any…kind lady, do you not, Sir?' asked Prowler cynically.

Mr. Toddler only blushed and asked Mrs. Gardiner when desert would be ready since he was a great fan of her puddings.

At length, the dinner ended and the guests rose to leave. On cue, Mary followed them to the door, holding Mr. Toddler's hat and cane for him.

'I do wonder where Anita is! For Heaven's Sake it's almost ten o' clock, I should think she needs to be taught a lesson!' exclaimed Mrs. Gardiner from the parlour.

Mr. Gardiner came up in the hall to bid goodbye to the gentlemen.

'You are welcomed any time. We have a wonderful drawing room where many a pleasant evenings can be spent, perhaps when both of you aren't quite so busy as to enjoy…well what I mean to say is that we cannot let our troubles and affairs take over us completely, we need to leave room for some amusement.'

With that he shook hands with both of them warmly whilst Mary held the door open.

'Miss Bennet…it has been…an utter pleasure to m-meet you…' Mr. Toddler addressed her as he passed the threshold, bowing so hard his hat almost fell again.

'I shall be expecting you then, Miss Bennet,' Mr. Prowler drawled as he exited the house, his eyes mocking her.

She frowned as she saw his figure depart in the dark and shut the door.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: In your presence

It was bright and early when Mr. Bennet left the Gardiners. Mary was up and about, attending to her father who had hired a coach to take him to Kent. Luckily, only Mr. Gardiner was awake and he was in no mood to inquire further into the business of this trip, which he supposed was only a departure to Longbourn.

He only advised her father to stay for breakfast as well, but he was not up for it and preferred to leave. Mr. Bennet felt at ease to have Mary close to him, helping him. He almost wished he could take her with him to Kent, but that would not have been fair to the young woman who had never really seen London. What was more, Mr. Collins was an acquaintance to avoid and the last thing he wanted was to make his daughter suffer his so called "sagacity".

She was sorry to see him go, she would have liked him to join her through the busy streets rather than the busy Mr. Gardiner, who had no time to accommodate her with the life of the city.

'Must you leave, then?'

'I'm afraid I must, Mary. I will be back at Longbourn soon…and I shall be expecting your return as well,' he said smiling.

'Promise me you will take care, father,' she said worried.

'Have I ever ignored my welfare? Why, I am a selfish man, I always tend to look after myself and my family first.'

'That is good to hear.'

'Now, you remember our secret, don't you Mary?' he said winking as he climbed in the coach giving her a last kiss on the forehead.

'I do, I will not let you down.'

'I knew you wouldn't,' he said gaily and waved at her as the vehicle departed.

'Be safe, father! Goodbye!' she yelled after him as the coach was lost in the morning dust of the streets. Her yells had perturbed the still silence of the day and some birds croaked agitated up in the sky.

The weather appeared to be bad, it was going to rain soon and her uncle abhorred walking the streets under the cover of cold drops; her aunt, as her duty had it, abhorred it too. Thus, inside they remained for the rest of the day, which did not disturb Mary much. Her heart was already filled with some worry and she sat reading, trying to make the thoughts go away.

At lunch she saw Anita for the first time since the day before and she could hardly face her, though the maid seemed completely unaffected. She knew Anita had not seen her watching that evening, but she still felt self-conscious. The maid was still a very sharp-tongued girl, her figure still swung indecently, her lips parted in a secret sigh sometimes, nothing was changed about her. Mary wondered why she should think something would have changed. It probably wasn't the first time Anita had done such thing.

At times she wanted to ask her whether she would marry that man, but even she knew that was far too naïve, so she ignored her as much as she could.

Mrs. Gardiner was occupied with sewing, her favourite activity and in the afternoon Mary joined her, having nothing else to do. They both sat in the pretty parlour, watching the passers-by from the wet windows as they rushed from work. She wished she could have been one of the passers-by, rushing so from toil, trying to get home to her family or to her faithful hearth. For she felt a bit useless, sitting there sewing for the "hamper of good will". This hamper went from house to house to each wealthier lady who improved it with cloth, poultry, medicine and all sort of trinkets that were then given to the poor. It was not exactly a hamper, it seemed more like a huge bag, but it was Mrs. Gardiner's turn and she would not draw back from her duties. She told Mary this custom originated from little hamlets and villages and had reached the big city, but Mary knew well this business, for she had to deal with it at home as well. The goods never really reached the poor, or only a quarter of these did and even fewer actually served the poor.

So she thought, it was wrong to sit there instead of taking what could be taken from the house and rush to the poor and give it to them, seeing their happy faces glow with glee. That way, she would be rushing too; she would be doing something useful.

'I hope tomorrow Mr. Gardiner will take you out,' Mrs. Gardiner spoke.

'I hope so too,' Mary agreed.

'You know, the streets are so clean after the rain, the air is so fine, all is well, but you need only wait. And I think the way we occupy our time is delightful, we do not make any waste.'

'Indeed,' she murmured carelessly.

'Maybe you would like to play the piano a bit.'

At this she looked up frightened as if someone had asked her to go shoot hares on the field.

Mrs. Gardiner sensed her uneasiness and patted her hand friendly.

'No worry, I won't be in your way! I was going to rest for a while, I am rather drowsy. I'll let you practice alone.'

This she agreed to, pleased, and was left on her own before supper.

The drawing room was well lit even if the skies were grey outside; the pianoforte seemed to be waiting for her. She saw some strange scores placed on its lid and she inspected them curiously.

She had never played such music before, the score was Vivaldi's. Italian composers were almost banned in Hertfordshire. She would never be allowed to play it at home, simply because so many ladies there were against any such "perversities". Handel's _Messiah _was their favourite and should it have been otherwise, the gossip and snickering would have been immense.

Mary seated herself on the stool and placed her hands rigidly on the claps. She still remembered how to play, she knew where every finger was supposed to be, she knew how she needed to move, like a gentle storm over her fingertips, but the music brought some challenge.

Eventually she started playing.

At first she made a great deal of mistakes and advanced roughly, having to stop every now and then and start again. It was not ambition that was driving her to try again after a new blunder. She simply had nothing else on her mind.

At length, she managed to play a good portion of it without too many flaws, or so she considered, though the warmth and suaveness that Georgiana showed when playing did not appear and was not felt.

Something was missing. She racked her brains at what it could be. With her thumb in her mouth she frowned at the score.

What was she doing wrong?

It always went this way. She was going too fast, she slowed down.

She was going too slow, she sped up.

But there was something else when all these chagrins were removed.

There remained something stiff in her performance. She knew she played like a statue. What was it that made Georgiana dive in her music so?

Maybe it wasn't the right material, but it was…it was Vivaldi, it was passionate and sweet, it was still proper.

She brooded over this silently and tried again.

When supper was ready she could sing a good portion of it with no flaw.

The stiffness remained.

That evening she dined, resentful. Resentful of other people's talent and easiness, of their gaiety which was felt in their music as well.

Somehow, Mary knew it had been a bad idea to play again. She had felt well, to be hugged by light and surrounded by clear sounds, but some pain remained and she urged herself not to continue. It was just one try.

* * *

The next day, the sun rose angrily and it was clear they could go off on another "excursion" through London since the weather had improved considerably.

It was so warm that Mr. Gardiner did not take his flannel with him, no matter how Mrs. Gardiner chided him. She always gave in to his wishes eventually. Mary was always angered to see this, but said nothing.

They set off around ten o' clock and Mr. Gardiner decided to take her to his office first. His warehouses were in proximity, he would show her those too. Mr. Toddler would probably be present to aid them, he seemed to be pleased to assist them.

'Mr. Toddler…he thinks you are quite something, Mary!' he said laughing as they exited the house. 'I daresay he will be thoroughly happy to see you have come to our humble abode.'

She said nothing, she barely knew him and vice versa, he did not know her one bit, but her good manners and her lack of superiority in her eyes had secured her his good opinion.

They needed to reach Theobalds Road which was some way off, but he insisted they walk. That way his niece could see more and be pleased.

Mary complied and was sure she would enjoy the visit.

She was partially right. They reached the office at twelve o' clock. That was because Mr. Gardiner had loitered a great deal on the way and Mary had been made to step into many shops.

They stopped in front of a green-painted building over which hung the black sign in silver letters "Gardiner's and Toddler's". It seemed desolate, but upon seeing some young men rushing to and fro inside she felt more secure.

The building had two floors and a basement where the cloth was kept. On the first floor some girls were hired to sew and spin the thread at some odd machines she had not seen before. There were only five and they did not look younger than sixteen, they were all cheerful and sang happily, dressed in white aprons.

The room was quite barren and cold, but the sun tried creeping in; no one protested, though. She saw all this in wonder before each girl smiled and bowed at her.

'We only have five, the best one's Martha Stamplow, she is the eldest, but we wish to hire more. We only do not know how to go about it. I've always dealt with the selling of furniture, I do not know much about this fabric business.'

Upstairs, they had their offices separately and had to do with orders. Here Mr. Gardiner was chief as Mr. Toddler only had authority downstairs; here he felt at home to talk to his helping boys and talk to the carpenters about the new pieces brought in.

They did not have many employees, Mr. Toddler was more thrifty, so he had an assistant, a pretty lady who helped him everywhere. He had tried courting her and only after six months did he find out she was married.

Mr. Gardiner did not bother with that, he was happy to work on his own with his boys. The warehouses were his favourite retreats. He liked to inspect them every day, to walk there and smell the fresh wood.

He led Mary on a tour there and even though they looked grimly on the outside, they were welcoming on the inside and luminous. Everything was clean and put up nicely, though the air felt damp. She looked around curiously, but avoided the stares of the young boys there.

Mary kept close to her uncle and after some time they went back to the office since there was not much left to show to a woman like her who had not much interest in trade.

At half past one Mr. Toddler arrived. He had gone to the bank on some errands, he said, but he was beyond agitated to see them there and sweated a great deal. Mary sat in the hall, next to the desk of his assistant and he invited her in his small study.

Arthur was so proud that he showed his yellow teeth in a large grin as she inspected the room, searching for something to pique her interest. He thought she was searching for something that was not in its place and he was relaxed to know everything was in order, but she still seemed dissatisfied.

Mary wrinkled her nose and did not say much. It was a small place but decorated so amply that it was obvious he was well-off. On his desk he had many ribbons, of all shapes and sizes.

'My passion is collecting ribbons. I always liked clothes when I was a child, especially my mother's since I was raised only by her. So I knew I would go into the business some day and I have not lost my old love. They are so precious! But you must like ribbons, don't you?'

A clever man would have observed Mary hardly ever wore ribbons, but she smiled mercifully and pretended to look them over interested.

He was beaming as he called Mr. Gardiner as well to show how Mary liked his ribbons.

After some time was spent idly, her uncle took out some notebooks and showed her how the orders were taken by letter and copied in registers. He showed her the bills and invoices, the way they were written prettily by one of the boys helping there. She thought with mirth she could have done that, she was good at algebra and her writing was even prettier, but the opportunity of working there appeared very grey to her.

If everything failed her in life she would try this, her uncle needed more girls downstairs after all.

At four o' clock they left the office and turned towards the city centre, but Mr. Toddler did not join them. He had to see his physician about a back pain which had been bothering him for a while.

They said goodbye and Mary thought they would be going home, since Mrs. Gardiner expected them with something to eat.

'Do not trouble yourself, she will be expecting us later. No, let us go on, I am not fed with walking. Why, I promised to take you to a law office as well, have you forgotten?'

'No, I have not, but we can go tomorrow…'

'And I think Mr. Prowler would be expecting us, we did not go yesterday, today would be polite to go, don't you think Mary?'

'Mr. Prowler's office? I don't think he'll want us there, he might be busy,' she tried.

'Heavens, no! It's Sunday, no one's busy on Sunday. The girls got off at three at my office, it's silly and they work on Sunday because they are too poor, dear girls. No, no one's really busy on Sunday, unless it's a life and death matter!'

Mary hung her head in protest, but there was nothing she could do, she didn't know the way back home, she could only follow her uncle.

They advanced further on Rosebery Avenue where Mr. Gardiner knew the lawyer worked and was in a very good mood, thinking they might even have some supper with him if they could convince him to leave his office.

'And you must help me do so, Mary,' he said merrily.

The place was quite deserted when they arrived and her uncle had been right, for only the lawyer himself and his clerk, a Mr. Croswell, a haggard old looking gentleman with pinched whiskers, were there to welcome them.

The building was not large, but very proud, erect and spacious as no other shop or house crammed it. It looked warm, but genial. The colours were pastel and dark here and there, the walls looked old. There was an entrance hall where one left one's coat and hat. Then one stepped in Mr. Croswell's office through which one had to pass to get to the lawyer's office, for they were adjoined by a wall and a black door made it possible for the clerk to reach his master.

Mr. Croswell was very kind, much to Mary's surprise, he treated James like the son he never had. She thought he would be bitter since he was witness to the wickedness of men and misfortunes of honest ones, but nothing seemed to affect him anymore.

He bowed deeply to both of them and saluted her uncle warmly, since they were good acquaintances.

'This is my niece, Miss Bennet. She was very keen on coming, you see, she was quite curious. She's the studious kind, reads a great deal,' he said to his friend who smiled politely.

'Very keen on coming? I have told you before that I am flattered Miss Bennet,' a voice spoke and when she looked at the door he was standing there, legs crossed and hands folded, peering at her and her uncle with a playful look.

Mary looked away embarrassed, it was her uncle who said so, but she still felt vexed. Her eyes fell on some paintings on the wall, but they did not show any proud men, they delighted her with some views of the country and of some lakes she felt she had seen before.

'Mr. Prowler, we have come you see, we have not forgotten,' her uncle said.

'And I am pleased you did, I knew you would come…after all, Miss Bennet is very curious as you said. Well then, let us walk in.'

She was ushered inside his office with her head down in shame, but as they stepped in she couldn't help looking up. The room was very simple.

Nothing adorned the walls, only sunshine crept in through some large windows in front of her. The curtains were velvety red, with no motif on them, but it still surprised her. The furniture was of mahogany but the walls were painted white. A great deal of books were scattered everywhere, in many cupboards and drawers. His desk was very neat, though. Only a case of cigars lay open on it.

She noticed no fireplace though there had been one in Mr. Croswell's office. He must have suffered in winter heavily, but he was probably used to it. Men had a strong constitution, it was preferable they learnt to bear the cold.

On one chest of drawers she saw many porcelain figures of young ballerinas. This was strange, did he like such figures?

Her questions were soon answered since he had noticed her stares and was only too happy to notice she felt unsure at not knowing something.

They sat down, but her eyes still wondered.

'The curtains were a present from Mrs. Croswell, she's a lovely lady who likes to make the place less morbid. I could not refuse her, I am quite fond of them. I bring a lot of my books here, at home they are too crowded. If I have room here, I take advantage of it. I apologise if some things here are in disarray, but it's more comfortable this way. As long as I have ample light, I am pleased.'

She nodded gratefully, but waited for him to explain more.

James was waiting for her to ask him, he wanted to see she was interested. Men always did when the object was their personal space.

She frowned when she became aware of this and coughed as way of starting.

'What about those porcelain figures, Mr. Prowler?'

He smiled and walked to them. 'They are the last thing I have left from my deceased mother,' he said shortly.

'Oh…' she uttered ashamed. 'I am sorry…to have mentioned…'

'It's quite alright, you could not have known. I must say, Mr. Gardiner, _you_ have never asked me of them. Ladies have a knack for details.'

'Yes, yes, indeed, she is very attentive, she noticed my carriage had a bit of paint off in one corner. She has good eyes.'

'I noticed,' he muttered looking out the window. 'Well, you came to see a law office, so let me show you one…'

He went to a cupboard at the back of his desk and unlocked it, taking out some dusty files. He also unlocked some drawers of his desk to take out a book with grey covers.

'Come here, then,' he bade Mary with no shadow of jest.

At first she was reluctant, but his eyes fixed her questioningly and she obeyed. She stood next to him at his desk looking over the files he showed her. He was quite happy to show his work, especially his successes, which were many she admitted.

'This was three years ago, one of my first cases and my first serious one. It dealt with forgery, it was easy back then, I had more enthusiasm,' he muttered.

'And now?' she asked.

'Now, I have more peace of mind,' he said smiling. 'I deal with my customers promptly. Pragmatism is not a bad thing. Over the years you get used to some triviality. Not everything is an adventure.'

She nodded and looked on. He let her flip through each new case, let her see his notes to it and she smiled from time to time approvingly.

'I do not understand some things here…I am not really accustomed to jurisprudence, but I know Latin. Here you say "guilty mind", interesting.'

'Yes, the first thing one must say when dealing with crime is "_actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea_".'

'The act does not make a person guilty unless the mind is also guilty,' she translated nodding.

'Yes, quite so. I use this book whenever I forget something,' he said pointing to the book with grey covers. 'I have dozen others of its kind, but this one deals with the rarest possibilities, the law may have loopholes.'

'That's good,' she said taking the book in her hands. 'So you like working with the law?'

'It's what I am best at…I do not think I could have tried trades or anything of its kind. The thought does not tempt me,' he spoke looking at Mr. Gardiner as form of apology.

'Well, some people are not cut out for it,' she stated.

'Thank you for underlining the obvious, Miss Bennet,' he spoke cynically, smirking at her in his usual way which she did not stand.

'I am glad to see Mary takes an interest in anything, a woman needs to be knowledgeable, why, if her husband does so and so she must know what he is about,' her uncle said.

She frowned, angrily and tried to retort, but James touched her hand slowly and shook his head.

For some reason, she listened to him and remained quiet.

'Yes, a woman needs to be knowledgeable, married or not, human beings cannot bear the triviality of life without inner fortune,' he said and walked away from her.

_I do not need him to speak for me._

But he had nonetheless. She felt a little bit grateful.

The rest of the hour passed in some small talk between the men as she sat and poured over the book he had given her. From time to time she would sneak a glance his way, but he remained with his back turned.

Suddenly, something caught her eye. It was a small piece of paper stuck between two pages. She took it out and hid it under her folds, placing the book on her knees as she read the note.

_Thank you so much, Sir, for the wonderful roses. Mama enjoyed them so! I am glad to say she is much better now. Thank you for the kind visits, we expect you any time._

_Geraldine Durant_

She frowned confused, but said nothing as she bit her lip.

_Miss Durant? Yes, I remember they spoke of their acquaintance at the wedding. He is courting her, I suppose. Well, it does not concern me._

And with that she put the note back and flipped the page, but for some reason she could not find focus to read anymore and shut the book annoyed.

At length, her uncle rose to go, he felt it was time and his stomach had started to rumble. She rose too and he looked up at her.

'I'll put those away, do not bother Miss Bennet,' he told her when he noticed she wanted to open his drawers.

'Oh, I am sorry,' she said and stepped away.

_Does he know the note was in that book?_

''Well, we're off to supper, aren't we? Haven't eaten all day, poor Mary, she must think I'm an awful host indeed,' Mr. Gardiner said.

'Oh, not at all!' she retorted. 'I am not so hungry.'

'I know a place right around the corner, they have excellent roast potatoes and pies. The price is decent, I often eat there when I cannot get home early. If you wish, you can dine there.'

'What a superb idea! This was Mrs. Gardiner will not have to worry herself too much about the pheasant she wanted to have tonight. But you must join us, Mr. Prowler,' he said gaily.

'Oh, no, I could not intrude, it will be a family dinner.'

'Nonsense! We could always use someone else to keep us company and you have been so kind with us, isn't it so Mary?'

They both looked at her expectantly and she suddenly felt angry.

'Well, if the decision depended on me it was obvious Mr. Prowler wanted to come, that is why you asked this knowing I would be polite and agree, so why should we bother with this?' she asked defiantly.

James grinned as Mr. Gardiner stared at her.

'Well, Mary, the gentleman was only trying…'

'It's alright, I am already _persuaded_,' James said sarcastically opening the door for them.

* * *

'Isn't it very grand, Mary?' her uncle asked her as they ate their meal peacefully next to the window. The public house smelled of burnt cinder and hay, but it was not a bothersome smell, it even encouraged good appetite. It was cosy, but not too hot inside and the crowd was dwindling slowly, so there would be more room soon.

Angus, the barman, nodded from time to time their way smiling. He had rough red hands and queer blue eyes, but he wasn't Scottish as she had guessed, he was French.

'A former client…' explained James. 'He always lets me have half-price dinners. For lunches he gives me an apple on the house sometimes.'

'I see you help all walks of people, Mr. Prowler,' she spoke, but immediately regretted it when she noticed it sounded arrogant.

'The benefit of helping _commoners_ is something you perhaps have not enjoyed, Miss Bennet,' he replied coldly.

'What I meant was that…' she tried, but was rudely interrupted.

'I receive orders from lowly people myself, but the barman seems a very good sort,' her uncle butted in.

'I do not doubt it,' she said loudly. 'I simply thought that what with your success, Mr. Prowler…'

But the man decidedly ignored her excuses and went on eating quietly.

In the last half-hour she had experienced much vexation and she suspected she would still.

'Have you gone to church this morning, Mr. Prowler? We did not have time to attend,' spoke Mr. Gardiner.

'I'm afraid not, Sir. I am not in the habit of trusting church too much. I admit it's an admirable institution, but easily corrupted,' he spoke.

'So then, you're an agnostic,' Mary quickly said.

'I did not say so, but you are right, Miss Bennet. And what of you? Are you a loyal Presbyterian?'

'Surely not…but I am certain of the existence of God. I…I attend church with my family, it's very pleasant early in the morning. We are friends with the reverend. He does not think highly of agnostics. He says they avoid all responsibility,' she said stumbling over her words.

'And what do _you_ think, Miss Bennet? Do you preach the same singsong?'

'I agree with him; people should heed to their creed and stand up for what they believe in.'

She did not know why she had replied so, but something about his inquiry upset her. She had lied, for she did not have anything against agnostics, but she protested nonetheless.

'Ah, I see, another idealist. You say that to yourself, but you do not really keep to it, do you?'

'I certainly do, I believe everyone should…'

'And I do not stand up for what I believe in?'

'Well, what do you believe? You do not believe in His existence, but you do not believe in His inexistence either.'

'That's right, I see nothing against it.'

'But it's ignorance. You do not really stand up for anything. If someone tells you they are fanatics you nod your head, if some tell you they are heretics you nod your head. That's not the way to go about it.'

'And what do you expect me to do, then?' he asked a bit cross.

'You cannot worm out of responsibility by pretending to be neutral. Some do this so they cannot be accused of anything by those who adhere to a certain creed.'

'Miss Bennet, this _is_ a creed and if you are not tolerant enough to see that, it is _your_ issue, not mine.'

'Tolerance?'

'Yes, you do not show so much of it.'

'Now, now, what's this talk of religion at the table! Quite troublesome, let's have with it,' Mr. Gardiner intervened as he folded the newspaper he was looking through. 'Mary, dear, it's not polite to have such talks when eating.'

She bowed her head in submission and kept quiet. Yet she felt guilty.

Why had she stormed at him like that?

'I apologise, Sir, I have nothing against agnostics,' she said after a while humbly.

'No, Miss Bennet, you just have something against me,' he said looking away and making sure only she heard him.

'That's not…'

'But I couldn't care less,' he replied.

Now she felt truly guilty and wanted nothing more but to get out of there and run home to Longbourn. She was such a silly girl, after all.

'I do not want you to think I have such ill manners,' she tried again.

He nodded and borrowed the newspaper from Mr. Gardiner.

They did not exchange another word for the rest of the meal and so it passed miserably for her whilst she struggled between anger and regret.

Some time passed before they left the public house and when they stepped outside the sky was already half-dark, sending some red rays of dusk in their way. The light fell on her shoulders which sagged as she looked down pensively.

She noticed her uncle and James were still talking, but she tried not to listen to their gab, she fixed her eyes on the dust.

Suddenly, she felt a sweet pain and when she looked up he was holding her hand, intending on kissing it.

'Do not be too miserable, Miss Bennet, I can easily forgive your daftness for one evening. Goodbye!' he said and dropped her hand, leaving her.

She looked after him as he hurried away, his coat billowing behind him. She was now alone in the street with her uncle.

_Daftness! How shameful…well, he provoked me!_

However, she could not quite convince herself of that and she decided not to think of it anymore. All she wanted now was to go to bed and she trod away with Mr. Gardiner back home.

* * *

The next day went peacefully by, she thought, for she did not go out of her room much, only kept company with her books. She did not wish to study, she could not keep focus. Instead she delved into Oliver Goldsmith's "The Vicar of Wakefield", hoping to regain her disposition soon.

Her uncle was busy at the office and could not walk with her that day so she stayed in with her aunt who seemed upset at knowing Mary's plans had fallen through because of that.

She was telling her so that afternoon as they were having tea, but the girl was pleased not to have to go out, she did not feel up to it.

The room was warm, she felt cosy, she did not wish to get up soon, yet Mrs. Gardiner's buzzing was disrupting her.

'How unfortunate that it's Monday and it's always a busy day, you know. But how unfair for you! After all, it's not every day you come here and look how we treat you.'

'I am very comfortable, thank you.'

'And probably bored to death! I thought I should send my husband a note, but I think he will not forget of you entirely, I am sure! If _he_ cannot make it, he will…'

But here she was interrupted by a sudden heavy knock at the door. Both ladies looked up and Anita, as expected, went to open the door.

'Mr. Toddler, Missus,' Anita announced.

Arthur Toddler entered the parlour looking as if he had run all the way there, his locks wild on his forehead.

'Good afternoon, good afternoon!' he bade them, taking off his hat. 'How good to …to have found you, how good.'

'Mr. Toddler, how do you do? You have finished work early?'

'I have Mrs. Gardiner, I have, but p-poor Mr. Gardiner still has to be at the warehouse, but…but he enjoys it, so I was sent away.'

'And you came to see us, how kind of you! I was just about to tell Mary if my husband could not entertain us, maybe you would.'

'H-how you guessed my thoughts!' he spat agitated. 'Mr. Gardiner told me how...v-vexed he felt at leaving Miss B-Bennet home so he asked me if I could and…and of course, it is my pleasure.'

'Pardon?' Mary asked confused.

'W-Would you like to go on a w-walk with me, Miss Bennet? I have my carriage outside.'

'Oh, how wonderful! Mary surely would like that, wouldn't you?' Mrs. Gardiner asked delighted.

'I…yes…that _would_ be nice,' she replied unsure. 'Give me some minutes, Sir.'

She left the room promptly to fetch her bonnet and Mr. Toddler bowed as she passed him.

'But please, sit down, Sir!' Mrs. Gardiner pleaded making room on the plush couch.

'Oh, I couldn't. I've s-sat all day…'

The wait took longer than expected and he decided after all to sit down, but no sooner did he place himself near Mrs. Gardiner, than Mary came down and was ready to go.

He rose embarrassed and hurried to open the door for her.

'Enjoy yourselves!' Mrs. Gardiner called from the door as Mary was being led to his vehicle.

They climbed in and the coachman pulled the reins as the two sandy horses trotted on the pavement.

'You look q-quite pr-pretty Miss Bennet,' he said at length when fifteen minutes had passed in silence.

All this time she had looked out the window pensively. At his remark she turned her head surprised.

'You exaggerate immensely, Sir, or are too kind. I am rather a plain sort.'

'That's…that's not true, I know a p-plain woman when I see one.'

'Then she is standing in front of you. But I do not care much for this, I would rather be complimented for other things.'

He looked at her worried as if he had made a mistake.

'Th-then please, tell me…what do you wish me to c-compliment you on?'

She almost laughed at his naïve question.

'Do not bother, Sir. Compliments come naturally from the heart, they are not studied, you have to admire a quality first in order to single it out.'

'I…I understand…well I see…I see that you are p-pretty.'

Mary shook her head amused, but chose to say nothing. He was such a shy man she could barely make him see logic.

'Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Toddler, for you are very mysterious, I dare say,' she said.

He instantly smiled, happy to oblige for he needed guidance in order to spark up a conversation.

'I..I am a very simple sort of man. I enjoy my work very much…I have a h-humble home and I live alone with…with my dog, she's a bitch, her name is C-Clara.'

'Pretty name for a dog…'

'Y-yes, I named her after my sister. She lives in Nottingham. I have two maids and…and I like to d-dine with m-many, I do not like to dine alone.'

'No one does at times…but what do you like to do, besides work?'

'Well…I've told you I collect r-ribbons. I've always b-been good at backgammon and enjoy reading on politics. But I...I do that because every gentleman must. Yet I h-have a secret partiality to music.'

'Oh, you do? How good, I enjoy music as well, everyone should, it's part of life.'

'Y-yes, I agree. But my fellow tradesmen laugh at me…They say I indulge in s-stuff that's not worthy of me.'

'How foolish and nasty of them! Not everyone can indulge in something as refined as good music.'

'I agree…I enjoy concerts…I like to h-hear people play. D-do you play any instrument, Miss Bennet?'

She paused.

'I do. I play the piano, but not so well.'

'Oh! How…how charming! How knowledgeable you are! B-but then I wish to hear you play.'

'I doubt you would enjoy it, Sir. I am not a great proficient. You might want to reconsider.'

'H-Heavens no! I would thoroughly like to hear you play, M-Miss Bennet. Please, honour me that p-pleasure!'

'I do not suppose I could in any case.'

'Mrs. G-Gardiner has a pianoforte. That little drawing room is absolutely charming, it w-would do.'

'It's true, but I do not know if Mrs. Gardiner would allow it…'

'Nonsense! I…I will w-write to her, she always wanted to h-have another gathering in the drawing room, e-ever since New Year's eve.'

'That's really not necessary…'

'T-Think nothing of it!'

She tried persuading him otherwise, but in this he was as stubborn as an ass. He kept on saying he would love to hear her play and there was no end to it, until she nodded resentfully.

There she was, trapped to play for an audience once again.

And what if she made a fool of herself like she had at the Netherfield Ball? That had been horrid, indeed.

She tried telling herself at least the audience would not be so displeasing.

He went on to talk of his business more and forgot all about music. Since he was trying so hard to be liked she listened to him patiently and replied properly. He was so delighted with her knowledge that he praised her continuously.

As time flew by, Mary would turn her head more often to the window to look at the dull streets, since she was getting quite tired of this ride. She enjoyed walking, but Mr. Toddler apparently had no wish to do that.

She did not even remark they had stopped all of a sudden.

'Please excuse m-me for a while, I shall be back in a minute,' he said and with that he stepped out of the carriage and left her alone.

She stood waiting for him, with her head leant against the window. It was more refreshing and less exhausting to walk, she discovered. She felt almost encaged. Only long journeys should be spent this way.

She saw him leave a building, followed by a taller man with dark hair.

They paid their adieus as Arthur hurried back to the carriage.

'Well, well, well, if isn't Miss Bennet in Arthur's carriage!'

She looked alarmed out the window. The figure laughed.

'Mr. Prowler!' she almost yelled at him.

'Good afternoon to you too, Miss Bennet.'

'I w-was giving the lady a ride…' explained Arthur as he climbed in.

'How nice of you, I bet she was such a bore until you came, Sir. Well, enjoy the ride,' he said bowing mockingly.

She wanted to reply, but he stepped in again and was gone.

_Why does he have to be so fickle and rude?_

'W-Well, Miss B-Bennet, where do you wish to go further?'

'We should return, Sir, it's getting dark,' she said and turned her head upset.

Mr. Toddler fidgeted nervously and bade his coachman to return to Southwark Street. All the way back he tried to ask Miss Bennet of her sisters more, but he was not so successful.


	22. Chapter 22

_**I wanted to thank all of those who reviewed without logging in, since I don't know how to thank you otherwise. Your comments were very much appreciated and you are welcome to give any criticism you see fit. I also thank those who reviewed logged in (alright, I am really not good at this, am I?) and am very grateful for your support. Your reviews make my day. Well, on to the chapter then, I hope you like it. **_

Chapter 22: A thicket

Three days passed in silence and peace in which Mary received no news from her father. She had not asked him to write to her, but hoped he would pen her at least a short epistle in due time. She wondered what Mr. Collins had made of the sudden visit and whether he was already returning home.

She had faithfully kept her part and had written her mother three letters, all very handsome, concerning the attractions of London and the peculiar things she had seen. She wrote that her father had prolonged his stay and had joined her in town as to spare Mr. Gardiner who had already much to do at the office. She had also mentioned Mr. Toddler's numerous visits and pleasantries as to divert and indulge her puerile schemes.

To all this Mrs. Bennet had replied most heartily, giving her advice on dress and fashion and bidding her not to let her father walk in the rain, a habit which he had formed in the country and which would make him catch a cold and spoil all their entertainment.

Mary was sufficiently pleased with her replies and hoped everything would end well, for the true novelties lay here, in London. An entire week had passed since her arrival, but she felt only mere seconds had transpired, everything was rushing and she was standing still in the middle of it all. However, she was not about to complain, after all, her pride did not want it to be known she had suddenly become more partial to town. That was not acceptable.

As I mentioned before, three days had passed and neither Mr. Toddler nor Mr. Prowler had dared to call upon them. Mary felt quite secure at not having to confront either gentleman, both were quite imposing, in a different manner each. She took this opportunity and practiced more on the pianoforte.

She had told herself she would only try once, but her old passion was strong and came back with such force that she submitted entirely and every day, she spent three hours with the instrument.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were pleased to see her enjoy herself so, especially on rainy days when there was not much to entertain. Sometimes, they would listen to her and she would not feel as abashed as she had expected, since she could see in the minds of these people, she could guess their flaws, thus she had no reason to feel inferior, even if her playing was not proficient.

She had kept her dexterity of hands and liked to try some daring parts. The Gardiners enjoyed Italian composers thoroughly, they would not even hear of anything too ecclesiastic. She was very happy to oblige.

On the third day, however, Mrs. Gardiner received a very odd letter in small writing. You may guess, dear reader that it was from Mr. Toddler who had not given up on the idea of Mary playing to him. He had formed this notion and had nurtured it until he saw the right time to address the family. For some time the weather had been dull and so, he proposed that on the next day, which was Friday, they all reunite in a small gathering in the pretty drawing room to hear Miss Bennet. He added craftily that they had had a shipment of cloth delivered to Brazil which had brought ample profit and they should celebrate.

Mrs. Gardiner, who had suffered greatly at not having someone for dinner for so much time, was only too delighted at such a wonderful idea. This way, the improvements she had made to the room would be noticed and admired.

I suppose it is not hard to guess Mary was very much displeased with such arrangement and blushed angrily when both the Gardiners persisted in the scheme. They would not hear her refusal and obstinately insisted that her playing deserved a proper audience. Her uncle was very amused and let his wife take charge of everything and when he left his wife at her meanderings, there was no end of it. If her uncle was not the chief of the house, her aunt assumed that position and no one could disrespect her decision.

Mary was fuming when she left the dining room that evening and sulked in her room all night, being very angry with her relatives' suzerainty. She did consider now that it would have been infinitely better to visit London with her sisters and mother, for at least then, she could have done as she pleased without being noticed since all the attentions usually fell on Kitty or Lydia.

She only hoped beyond hope that only Mr. Toddler would be superfluous to their party and with that in mind she did think the task easier, for Mr. Toddler, no matter how much of a music lover he might be, was not a man of taste as she had noticed and would not complain the lack of grace in her performance which usual connoisseurs picked on.

Mr. Toddler had been less than subtle when he had proposed the gathering the very next day. It was certainly not proper to announce this only a day in advance and it would not do. But Mrs. Gardiner, while less keen that Mrs. Bennet herself, was not to be trifled with and insisted they could pull it off quite well. Surely, there was no time to arrange anything too festive and certainly, she could not perhaps prepare some lamb chops or some cherry tarts, but she would favour them with some of the pheasant which had not been eaten and excellent roasted apples with cream. She did consider that Mr. Toddler would be very pleased even so.

She only worried over the number of guests, she expected at least three to join them, but was wily enough not to mention this to Mary.

She woke up very early the next day and started preparing everything with utmost care and joy. At five in the morning she was busying herself in the kitchen and the sound of pots and pans erupted in the house. Mary woke up shortly herself, the racket was enough to keep her from shutting an eye.

'I believe your aunt shall overthrow the entire house,' spoke her uncle as he sat down for breakfast. 'She will not stop to breathe even. Poor woman, worrying herself so! Mr. Toddler is a very simple sort of man and whomever he might bring will be very fond of our drawing room, it's quite excellent, one of the prettiest in London.'

Mary kept silent, still feeling slightly vexed at their rudeness and only nodded absently. She could not yet forgive them for their boldness and decided silence was the best way to punish them.

In the afternoon she was taken to her room to be dressed and combed by Anita. She felt so embarrassed sitting in front of her dressing table with the petite girl towering over her that she felt no inclination to even raise her head and look at herself in the looking glass.

'Don't you want to see how pretty ye are?' Anita mocked from time to time.

'No, I trust you shall make me look presentable.'

Why are ye scared, Missus?'

'Who said I am?'

'Am I causin' ye distress?'

'Not at all, you can continue.'

'Ye seemed to like me better, ere.'

'It's really not important whether I like you or not.'

The maid fell silent upon hearing that retort and felt quite offended. But Mary saw she thought her place of inferiority was undeserved and that she needed to be taught a lesson. Unluckily, she had not the fortitude to administer it. Only Mr. Gardiner could put her in her place.

When Anita had finished she did look quite pretty, but the dress did not do justice to her fair complexion and only emphasised her dark circles. Her feeble waistline was not advantaged at all and the knot at her nape made her look slightly austere. Nevertheless, the entire assemble made her look pretty enough for a small gathering.

At six o' clock sharp Mr. Toddler was present with a small bouquet of daffodils at the doorstep. The yellow flowers only clashed terribly with his grey suit and made him quite a ridiculous sight, but his pleasing smiles and courteous manners added to his charm.

He was, however, accompanied by an elderly lady whom Mary had not seen before. She was already settled in the drawing room and upon seeing the pair wondered whether the lady was a relative or acquaintance of the shy man.

The woman proved to be Lady Isabel of Nordstrom, the wife of Sir Thomas of Nordstrom, a humble baronet who was not part of the elite, but felt pleased enough to have a saying in Parliament. Whilst they were not of such high station, they were quite respected in London and the man's fortune added to fifteen thousand a year which was no trifle as the Lady herself had inherited her father's lands in Dorset.

Superior to the Gardiners in wealth and position, they were not, however, so well looked upon that the Lady could not join them in their humble abode. Through some unknown cousin, Mr. Toddler and she were relatives and the gentleman had been eager to renew the acquaintance once he was aware of it. The connection had been made and since Sir Thomas was away most of the times the Lady bored to death. Mr. Toddler was an invaluable guest at times and a great entertainer, for she had the same silly, frivolous notions as he and it was a great comfort to her to have those notions reinforced. In addition, there was no other lady or gentleman who was willing to spend their Sunday evenings translating Latin sermons to her. She considered herself quite spiritual in his company and at times had seemed too friendly, but let nothing of an improper nuance be suspected; the reader must understand Mr. Toddler called her "Aunt dearie" and Lady Isabel called him "Arthur T." when she felt quite adventurous. There was an attachment of the sort that could not be frowned upon by anyone.

Mr. Toddler had meant to introduce her to the Gardiners on New Year's Eve, but the Lady had fallen ill and was not to be removed from the house, thus the chance was missed. And, one could not suspect she would attend a simple dinner party. Something of some grandness would have to be arranged for her to attend. Only then would she feel worthy and now came the opportunity to do so. She was very pleased to come since the lady she usually played bridge with was gone at the theatre.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were more than honoured to receive her and bade her have the best seat in the drawing room. They were quite agitated and Mrs. Gardiner was pained to admit they would have done better with some lamb chops.

Surely, not even this gathering was of the lady's taste, she thought and the few apples would not do. She rushed lividly to the kitchen and ordered Anita to go to the baker's to see if there were more oatcakes to be found.

She was certain she would find no peace until the Lady was at least somewhat satisfied.

Lady Isabel was quite disposed to ignore the humbleness of the dinner as she sat close by the pianoforte and was attended by the men and Miss Bennet. She adored to be the centre of attention, but kept a certain distance in her speech, as not to appear too eager.

'It is a most comfortable room, I say, it's just as good as any,' she commented sniffing in her condescending manner. 'I must agree with the improvements, if only the wallpaper were lighter…I recommend, however…'

If Mrs. Gardiner had been a better observer, she would have noticed the Lady, who was at quite a respectable age, was wearing a daring assemble and her dress was unsuited for the time. Much lace and ribbons were added to her bosom and it was not a dignified appearance. Her hair was in plaits and the visible grey hairs only enhanced her old age.

Mary, however, did see all this and had much to frown at, but was polite enough to restrain herself and only pity Mr. Toddler for such unsuited acquaintance.

Lady Isabel was quite a proficient at writing handsome letters, but she played no instrument, still Mary felt quite nervous, for who knows what she would remark of her performance. Her words were cutting and inconsiderate of others.

'Had we known of your coming…but Mr. Toddler was very secretive, I cannot understand…' said Mr. Gardiner.

'Oh, he was not at all. I was not intending to come. In fact, I was sure not to come, for you know, I had planned a game of bridge with Lady Bertram and I could not sacrifice that for some new acquaintance. Unfortunately, the lady deserted me for a play at the theatre and did not consider inviting _me_, as well, thus I was obliged to put off the game and decided to attend. It is not well for me to dine alone.'

'Why, I…I e-encouraged her going out a bit…The theatre w-would have been too crowded…in any case,' stated Mr. Toddler.

Mary was very displeased with such impertinent reply from the lady, but her uncle was overjoyed that she thought the likeness of his great grandfather to be very clever.

At length, Anita brought coffee and tea and the cook's helper brought some ham and biscuits with butter on another plate. Soon followed the cakes, which were few in number and had to be positioned in front of Lady Isabel, so she might think the number large.

Mrs. Gardiner arrived late in the drawing room and looking quite distressed, but Lady Isabel had already talked enough to the others and did not see fit to start all over again for the sake of Mary's aunt.

As there was not much else to add, Mary was asked to sit at the pianoforte and play a bit.

'Yes, yes, it is always becoming of a lady to play. I have always admired that and I will now, if the playing is good. Mr. Toddler and I are fond of music, yes we are and we are not ashamed of it, are we?'

The lady had not noticed Mary so much, she had only limited herself at commenting her dress which she thought decent and modest for a young lady, however, since she knew nothing of the Bennets, she could only nod her head carelessly at their being mentioned.

Mary obliged them and sat on the stool, placed her fingers on the claps, took a deep breath and started a cheerful little piece by Grieg, instead of jumping forwards to anything bold. The Lady's presence made her attentive of that.

As she tried not to make any mistakes, keeping her eyes fixed on the score, she felt this was an intolerable stress and wished no one would be piercing her so with their looks.

_It was worse at the Netherfield Ball, they did not even try to hide their laughs._

With this in mind, she gained more courage to heighten the sound and make the melody flow easily. Her fingers were eager to run over the claps and she was just about to look up when she heard a strange sound coming from the hall.

In just moments Anita came in with Mr. Prowler…who had arrived late.

The man looked quite wet from the rain outside.

'I am profusely apologetic for my tardiness, it was not intended, but…'

He looked up to see Mary sitting at the instrument quite baffled.

'Oh, am I interrupting something?'

She frowned and stopped playing immediately, getting up.

'Oh, but Miss Bennet, you need not stop on my account, I am sure we would all love to hear you play.'

Mrs. Gardiner immediately arranged for him to be settled nearby the lady and was overjoyed at having him there, for she considered that such a knowledgeable man as he would prove befitting for Lady Isabel.

He instantly kissed the lady's hand and bowed politely. Apparently they were well acquainted as Mr. Toddler could not dispose of his lawyer in any situation and was more than happy to have him meet his "Aunt dearie". She nodded absently, she did not much care for him or for any man with too much intellect, for that matter. He was too clever for her taste and thus her superior, something she could not stand.

Mrs. Gardiner called for more tea and placed many biscuits on his plate as he sat down between Mr. Toddler and the elderly woman.

'I was just lucky to make it, I thought the weather would not allow it.'

Mary sat at the opposite end of the room and only looked at him from time to time. She would decidedly not play anymore.

'And we are very lucky to have you, with you our party is complete,' added Mr. Gardiner. 'We were celebrating our new success with the shipment. I think it was a bold move, but necessary one. We were just a bit in the red, were we not, Mr. Toddler?'

'Q-Quite so, quite so…'

'Why, I advised him to do exactly so, myself, Sir,' said James. 'I think connections with South America are always welcome, the people there are hardworking and of great disposition. They depend on our help and humanitarianism cannot be ignored.'

'Indeed! That is also a good argument, my fellow, but well, won't you have some coffee as well?'

'I shall in due time, but will not Miss Bennet play again?' he asked.

She looked up surprised, but did not dare reply.

'Why, yes, surely she will, won't you Mary?' asked Mrs. Gardiner.

'Oh, I think I played enough.'

'Hardly, dear! And it was only stuff we do not enjoy so well, you must play more!' said Mr. Gardiner. 'Lady Nordstrom would like it immensely, isn't it so?'

'Yes, it was rude of you to interrupt yourself, do continue. A piece cannot be left like that.'

Mary would have wanted to remind her that she had been the one interrupted, but remained silent and only rose undecided.

'Come, Miss Bennet, I am sure your performance will delight us all. Do play, we entreat you,' continued Mr. Prowler and smiled at her warmly.

'There! Now you cannot refuse, Mary,' said Mrs. Gardiner.

She sighed and went to her pianoforte again, feeling much at the hand of the guests, but for some strange reason, not resenting it so much.

She felt James' eyes on her and made a silent prayer not to make any blunders so he could laugh at her expense. She would not allow that, no matter how nervous she was.

She sat down and started once again, this time with more courage and less hesitation, but was still very much focused on her playing. Her hands trembled slightly and she tried playing faster for it not to be noticed.

She paused at times and started again, but no one seemed to notice, for her playing was decidedly good, though not so graceful and artless.

When there was a longer pause on the score, she dared look up but regretted having done that. Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Toddler were engaged in a praise of the other's fortitude at having achieved a new order of linen for church, whilst Lady Isabel was showing Mrs. Gardiner her wedding ring, which was quite large and splendid as it shone in the light.

The only one watching her was Mr. Prowler and his gaze was fixed on her with such obstinacy that for a moment her hands skipped and she no longer found focus.

Noticing this, he smiled and immediately rose to assist her.

_What is he up to?_

He positioned himself behind her, one hand placed steadily on the pianoforte as he showed her with his fingers the portion she had skipped on the score.

'Just come from here again, Miss Bennet. You play quite well, you only need more assurance.'

She wanted to comment and turn, or simply rise and leave, but something compelled her to start again.

She thought that with him by her side she would most likely make a mistake at the first harder obstacle. She always played worse when one of her sisters stood close by to watch, not to mention her father. And then they would frown and turn away and she would feel miserable.

However, she discovered that he offered a security never achieved before.

His voice directed her from time to time, until her fingers flew freely over the claps and no one could call her playing less than equal to Georgiana's dexterity if not grace. He advised her to slacken when she was going too fast and bid her press the claps with more confidence.

She felt now quite grateful to have his support and let a small smile show on her face. He flipped the score pages for her and encouraged her further on.

The first to notice he was beside Mary was Lady Isabel who sniffed displeased and only remarked how well Miss Bennet played.

The audience was in good humour and praised Mr. Prowler for being of such useful help to a nervous young lady.

At length, the piece ended and she rose happily to receive her applause.

James clapped with the others smiling proudly at her and she felt herself blush slightly at so much attention.

'That was wonderfully done, Miss Bennet. See, our lot _is_ useful for something, isn't it?' he asked.

'I suppose I _could_ give you that credit,' she said laughing.

'Oh! Th-That was marvellous, Miss Bennet! S-Splendid!' Mr. Toddler added from his chair.

She went back to her seat and he was made to sit next to Mr. Toddler again, but now Mary felt quite happy and was not sad at not taking part in the conversation.

Time came for all of them to sit down for dinner and they all retired to the dining room where the meal was already waiting for them.

Mrs. Gardiner had indeed achieved more than could have been done and the pheasant was joined by a well-made stew with chicken wings. Everyone was pleased with this and, though the wine was not excellent, it was expected that the oatcake would make up for it.

Lady Isabel assumed the head of the table which did not bother anyone for no one really did occupy that place even when there were no guests. Mr. Gardiner sat at the opposite end with Mrs. Gardiner by his side, Mr. Toddler sat himself next to the Lady and so, Mr. Prowler and Mary were placed together, facing Arthur and her aunt.

Conversation soon ensued and Lady Isabel, who thought it right to talk much again, launched herself in another trivial talk of how she did find theatre so horrid and was pleased her friend had not invited her. Mr. Toddler added to this that the great playwrights had all extinguished and that this was the time of _novels. _His mock was evident and Mary only frowned, for many a gentleman had something against a good novel and considered it unwholesome.

'There are some good s-satires, but…that's all there is t-to it…' he said distressed.

'You seem not to think highly of prose, Mr. Toddler,' Mary spoke flustered.

'Q-quite so…I find it superfluous. Our a-age should not encourage it. It's...unnecessary in such i-immoral times.'

'Yet novels advise against immorality in the highest sense. Plays only scorn it.'

'And m-maybe it's best…to laugh upon m-misery …'

Mary said no more feeling cross enough, but Mr. Prowler turned to her amused.

'You really wanted to debate this with Arthur of all people, Miss Bennet?'

'Was it wrong of me to do so?'

'Very much so, since the gentleman could never understand you. Do not try to persuade him or advise him in any way. I can only remark my client is thick enough to refuse all such good intentions,' he said so only he could hear her.

She almost laughed in shock at his audacity, but restrained herself and only smiled amused.

'I see you do not think well of him.'

'Ah, those eyes never fail you, do they?'

'Jest while you can, but your bread still depends on Mr. Toddler.'

'My bread! For Heaven's Sake! There are so many like Arthur that I would have too many loaves of bread.'

'And this you consider advantageous!' she said chuckling.

'Why ever not? Sir Adam Smith said one should pursue one's own interests in order to contribute to the welfare of all. And that is what I am doing, pursuing my interests. If there are more like him, I am happier.'

Mrs. Gardiner heard Mary laugh and turned her head surprised when she remarked her niece was doing just so.

'What, pray, is the amusement? Do let us know.'

'We were just considering how dull the people who will attend theatre tonight will be, for they have missed such charming dinner,' he said.

'How truthful indeed!' added Lady Isabel. 'Right you said, quite a dull pack. Why, I wouldn't have accepted the invitation for anything. I almost wish she _had_ invited me so I could have refused her.'

James chuckled and smiled at Mary, nodding his head towards Lady Isabel.

'She is always present at theatre whenever there are sentimental plays. She enjoys those thoroughly. And the same goes for Mr. Toddler,' he added.

'How predictable! Yet, Mr. Toddler going to such plays is a surprise, I did not see him as quite a man to be attracted to such things…' she said quietly.

'Well, he did take you out in his carriage, did he not? I believe that was the height of his sentimentalism,' he said cynically.

'It was not as pleasant as you considered. It was quite dull and I did not have the opportunity to walk, I actually felt more tired when I came back. His skills at conversing were not sharp, either.'

'I see. I always do consider walks in carriages to be quite stupid when there is so much to see. Well then, it must be made up for it. You have wasted precious time from your study. That is quite unacceptable.'

'What do you propose then, Sir?' she asked amused, curious to see where this tirade was going.

'Might I suggest you repeat the walk, but without the company of the esteemed Arthur Toddler who tires you so? In fact, I believe you have not seen the parks, perhaps you might like to see a bit of the old country you left behind.'

'Oh, _charming_ idea, I shall wonder alone in the parks, shan't I?' she asked.

'That would be quite dangerous to attempt. Fear not, no one would be tempted to try anything too risky, Miss Bennet. Let us say you are not such a _tantalizing_ victim, but you do look well-off financially for a young lady and thieves only want this much.'

'Then I should appear destitute,' she said cynically.

'Your clever solutions never fail to amaze me, Miss Bennet, but I was rather suggesting you might like to be accompanied by my own person. Lawyers are most dreaded in London and whilst one might think they are in the gravest danger it is quite the opposite.'

'How fortunate for you…' she said slightly embarrassed. 'It would please me to see the parks.'

He smiled and established he would come the morrow to take her on the deserved walk.

After that, nothing else important was said between them as they both attempted to join the conversation around them.

The evening ended quite well with a cards game between the men whilst Mary waited patiently on the ladies and entertained them with stories from her sister's wedding which were fresh to Lady Isabel and quite well received, for her daughter had married some time ago and she could comment on the extended number of guests and rooms she had had.

There was a certain degree of comfortableness in Mary's speech to make her nonplussed at every rude reply the lady might give, which only provoked the lady to give more.

'Your sister married at just eighteen? Hm! Quite a bit early for good sort of people. My Cecily decided to establish herself at six and twenty. It was much better this way, you see, for, whilst she could have married even at your sister's age it would have obliged her to marry perhaps below her limits and this way she waited for the best match.'

'It is all well, but Catherine had found the best match for _her_, the feelings were mutual, nothing lacked to please, it was decided not to wait with a long engagement, for the Colonel is slightly older.'

'Cecily was united with Lord Hutchinson who was only thirty at the time, quite agreeable, don't you think?'

'Very much so…'

It was decided that Mary found her quite insipid and wished nothing more than to see the evening to an end, but the lady brought to discussion a subject which aroused her aunt's interest.

'I always take care to give a Ball for Sir Thomas' birthday. I find it quite enjoyable, though he would not admit it. He does not like crowds, but he likes showers of presents and all good wishes. He is quite fond of cake as well, so I would not be surprised if I considered one this year too. Only, we have aged, though it's not apparent in looks and who would come to assist us, when youths all enjoy outings of a different kind? But I am bent on gathering at least a few friends.'

'Oh! Lady Nordstrom, you speak quite unjustly! We are of old age as well and even Mary, as a youth, would highly enjoy such a feast, I am sure!'

'Oh, well then, I suppose I could invite you, it would be most becoming and it would show gratitude for the dinner,' she said slightly reluctant.

'It would give us immense pleasure,' said Mrs. Gardiner.

'I am certain, I always think it should. I did not consider inviting you, for we are not so well acquainted, but I can, now that I have attended your dinner. It can be considered proper. I think I will, if Sir Thomas agrees and there are enough seats. You will be welcome, for sure.'

Mary felt very much embarrassed by this speech and wished she could refuse such impolite self-invitation, but remained quiet, being in too good a disposition to be too vexed.

It was not long before the evening drew to an end and all the guests departed, but Mrs. Gardiner had secured a _formidable_ acquaintance and did not have anything to feel displeased with, not even if her dinner had not been up to standard.

Mary was quite happy too as she went to bed, but the causes of that were very blurry in her mind and she did not wish to examine them.

* * *

The clock chimed four the next day as she sat in the parlour once again, this time alone. Looking back on the evening she found it to be a success in matters of her performance and, while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had not praised her enough to feel proud, she knew they had liked it all the same.

When she had told her aunt of her plans of a walk through the park with Mr. Prowler, Mrs. Gardiner proposed Mr. Gardiner joined them, but her uncle excused himself as he had to go into town for some urgent calls, yet manifested his strong conviction that his niece had nothing to fear in the company of such a dignified gentleman as he was.

Mrs. Gardiner once again submitted to her husband's wish after some feeble opposing and only minded them to return should the weather be bad.

You might wonder, dear reader, why Mrs. Gardiner was so averse to this walk. I will tell you. It was her secret wish to have Arthur Toddler become friendly with Miss Bennet on account of his good situation and admirable manners. She fretted that Arthur might hear Mary had gone on a walk with another gentleman and give up on his attempt of becoming closer to her niece. In fact, she had much wished Mary could have taken this walk with her husband's partner, but seeing as it was not possible, only hoped that Mary would join the family at Sir Thomas' birthday where Arthur would faithfully be and she could perhaps persuade them to have a dance together. She settled this in her mind and felt safe for a while having such scheme already formed.

All this Mary did not suspect as she sat peacefully in the parlour, but her peace did not last for long, because in a short while Mr. Prowler arrived to call on her. He arrived so soon that she had no time to appear more poised, but he only bid her make haste, saving her from further embarrassment.

'Well, then, I am surprised to see you are not ready, Miss Bennet. Quite unacceptable, I shall expect you to put your bonnet very quickly.'

Their journey towards the park was a constant tirade of how she took so much time going out and how he, in fact, had come too early. Neither managed to provoke the other too much and they both ended up agreeing with the thing they had objected against.

'I see there's no end to our battle, but I shall not resign. There is ample time to regain complete victory,' he told her.

'Barely…when one is already sunk, one can only sunk deeper.'

'How witty of you indeed! I believe you have inherited this perfect pessimism from your wonderful relatives. But do not be too hard on yourself, if you do sink, Miss Bennet, at least you'll have some comfort that your adversary shall be up and smiling gleefully at you. At least you'll have the dignity of sinking under my look.'

'Only then shall I be thoroughly satisfied…' she said cynically.

After a lengthy walk they arrived in St James' Park and delighted in seeing such beauty before them in the shape of many colourful flowers and silver birds swishing through the air.

The lake offered a magnificent view and Mary was keen on seeing it from a closer ground. She felt like a small child again in front of all these green fields.

She spotted with utter delight a small group of pelicans on the banks and could not help exclaiming.

'Well, how odd indeed!'

'Yes, the park is famed for such species,' said Mr. Prowler. 'I see you are enjoying such novelties, Miss Bennet.'

'You cannot blame me. I would like to have a house here, next to this lake, it would be very pleasant.'

'Unfortunately, not even the Queen can have that so do not bother with such wishes. Better yet, let me show you some slopes which I favour in the winter. When I was a child it was great amusement to glide there and in the spring we had running contests with my classmates.'

She kneeled to every flower and every bush and inspected it thoroughly, smelling all that could be smelled and upon rising would be laughed at by James for having pollen left on the tip of her nose.

She would try to wipe it away but it would only become brighter on her nose. He offered his handkerchief at length, seeing as she was completely helpless.

'Well, you could have done so first, instead of mocking me, Sir.'

'And miss such great amusement? Why, not for the world,' he said laughing.

She only scoffed and turned her head annoyed, but she would regain her good humour and smile at him once more. She was very grateful for this walk and would not spoil it with exaggerate prudishness.

'Well, here is where I once attempted to be brave and broke my leg,' he said pointing at a slope which led to a thicket of bushes.

'Some years ago, there used to be some small trees on that side and my sledge took a wild turn there…well I'll not get into any gruesome details, but I held quite a grudge to this place when my classmates started mocking me about it.'

'I see then, that physical exercise can lead to mental scars as well. I must say, I almost feel lucky to know the only exercise I do is walking.'

'That is nothing to feel proud of; you ought to try horse riding too, for your health, of course and running…running can be wonderful in empty fields.'

'I cannot even jump a thicket, as my sister puts is so _well_ sometimes and you wish me to run wild on the fields, preferably on horseback?' she asked amused.

He looked at her surprised. 'You really cannot jump a thicket?'

'I have never tried it before and I don't intend to…'

'Your childhood was spent inside in the company of books, wasn't it Miss Bennet?'

'And if it was so, I do not see anything against it,' she replied flustered.

'Come,' he said and took her hand suddenly as he rushed her towards the top of the slope.

'What are you doing? Let go!' she howled from behind.

'Come here! Now…look down.'

She looked and saw the park lying in front of her in such beauty that she could not help gasping.

'It's beautiful,' she said turning towards him.

'No, no, silly Miss Bennet. Look down. See?'

She looked again and indeed at the foot of the slope was the thicket.

'That's a good one down there. Now, today you will jump it, Miss Bennet.'

'I beg your pardon?' she asked scandalized.

He smiled and let go of her hand which she had not realised was still in his.

'Come now, you must want to…'

'Not at all! Are you implying I should run down this slope and simply jump?'

'Could there be anything easier?'

'Not for the world, Sir! How dangerous and improper…people might see.'

'Then let them see, who cares? I do not, you should not either. Do not let others stand in the way of your happiness.'

'My happiness would be to go down…really I have no wish…'

'It is such a good chance, you can not walk away from it!'

'Oh yes I can! Nothing would tempt me…'

'Well,' started James faking disappointment, 'if you _cannot_ do it…I suppose I should let you go down.'

'What do you mean?' she asked annoyed.

'I suppose your sister was right then…if you are not _capable_…then it cannot be helped, some people shall always be weak of foot.'

'It is nothing of that sort, I simply…'

'Oh, then you must be _terribly_ afraid, Miss Bennet, aren't you? I cannot blame you. After all, you are a _female_ and females _do_ tend to shrink from such _demanding_ tasks.'

Her anger flared up and she looked at him defiantly.

'Female!? Demanding task? Ha! Out of my way!'

James smiled pleased and left room for her to prepare.

She straightened the folds of her dress and put up her hair in a very decided manner as she looked down at the thicket.

_What did I get myself into? Oh, stupid pride!_

She gulped, but thought Mr. Prowler would consider her more of a coward for not abiding by her decision.

Thus she braced herself and without thinking, started running blindly towards the thicket like mad.

The air blew in her ears as she departed and she felt her knees weaken.

_No, I cannot do it!_

She disappointedly stopped half way and almost crashed to the ground angrily.

James ran to her, laughing good-humouredly.

'Was that a _try_, Miss Bennet? It was quite shameful! Come, let us do it again.'

'No, I cannot…'

'Well, of course you couldn't. The dress was in your way. You need to hold your folds and keep your head up and…'

'I don't think I should try again…'

'Oh, enough of that! This time you will do it, I will run with you.'

She looked up. 'You will?'

He grinned and grasped her hand pulling her up again. As they reached the top he gave her the appropriate instructions for the task to be successful.

'If you want to do this properly you must be well prepared. Now, are you ready?' he said whilst standing next to her. 'I will run with you and we will both jump, alright?'

She nodded looking down absently, but her fists were clenched on her folds determinedly.

'Good then. Get ready. One, two, three, go!'

They both dashed forwards as if a villainous creature was trailing behind them and Mary listened to his advice holding her head up as she saw the thicket approaching.

They ran like hares over the fields as the birds soared in the sky and the ladies nearby exclaimed at the profanities of "the two youths".

Some children next to the lake joined them immediately, sensing an opportunity for a race and their squeals could be heard from afar.

She skipped over rocks and grass, she felt she was flying above ground and it felt so extraordinary that she couldn't help laughing with her entire being.

However, as she saw the obstacle approaching she lost some of her courage.

'The thicket, it's coming!' she yelled towards James.

'Yes, like I said, use your knees well, bring them to your chest as you jump, then land with them! Just let yourself go, the running will give you speed!'

'I don't think I can do it!'

'Yes you can, do not give up!'

'What if I break my neck?'

'Here! Take my hand!'

She did not have time to argue and almost crushed his fingers under her grip.

'We'll jump at the same time, alright?'

'What if we fail?'

'That word does not exist!' he yelled smiling at her. 'Here it comes, hold tight!'

She closed her eyes and pulled her body in the air just when James jumped and she felt the sun under her eyes, the world was turning upside down as she drew her knees to her chest and felt the branches touch her dress.

'Pull down your knees!' he yelled at her.

She did so too late and fell on the ground on the other side, though having succeeded in saving herself from any injury.

She opened her eyes and saw green in front of her. The lake was some miles away, glistening in the sun. Looking on her left she apprehended his figure, sprawled next to her, for she had dragged him on the ground with her. She felt very embarrassed, but as they both lay on the grass, mere feet away, he smiled at her.

'You just jumped a thicket, Miss Bennet.'

'So I did.'

Some time passed before he spoke.

'We should probably get up, we've had enough gossip on our account for one day.'

She blushed embarrassed and rose promptly, looking around suspiciously.

'We've been quite a scandal,' he said laughing. 'Who would dare to run in public like that!'

'Well, it was your fault, not mine,' said Mary flustered.

'Ah, mature as always…'

He gave her his hand and they both walked up once more as if nothing had happened. Her dress was quite dishevelled, not to mention her hair, but she had to admit it had been a wonderful run. She tried straightening her folds, but these actions produced even more reaction from the people walking by.

Ladies and gentlemen passing them gave them strange looks, their attire being quite prone to suspicions. Mary huffed, annoyed.

'Well! People will think _anything_, these days!'

'And why should you care? It's more amusing to let them think _anything_, Miss Bennet.'

She half-frowned at him, but shared his view that it was quite amusing to be the talk of all elderly ladies feeding pigeons there. She only hoped not to meet any acquaintance. That would be quite vexing.

As she watched the sun almost falling in the lake she smiled.

'And what, pray, brings this pleasant yet amazing change in your countenance?'

She turned to him, keeping her smile.

'I jumped a thicket.'

* * *

_**Now, I know this does not seem really proper, people running like that, but this is more of a bildungsroman and I want Mary to really evolve into someone even more daring than Lizzie, yet still demure and accomplished as any ambitious young woman. I am aware that in the nineteenth century this seems quite bold, but I consider Mary to be of a new kind, to break the old barriers and to try to be more independent, not an outcast, but clearly different. It sounds more like Charlotte Bronte, but I did not plan on imitating Jane Austen completely (which is impossible anyway:) ) This is a bit of my style, I hope it's not too overdone or tacky. If you find it quite bothersome, I apologise in advance and encourage you to give me tips as not to stray from the proprieties of the era. **_


	23. Chapter 23

_**Here is the new chapter. I am having some doubts about it, I hope it doesn't seem too far-fetched (it already is far-fetched) but bear with me. It will make some sense later, I hope. I wanted to take the opportunity to thank the anonymous reviewer 'T' for the very kind and almost too flattering review :) I know this story is far from being of the good quality I seek but I will try to make it better. I intend on revising it entirely after I finish it. In any case, I hope you like this chapter and don't frown too much after reading it. If you do, you can express it in criticism, it is always welcome.  
**_

Chapter 23: Intrigue

I shall repeat myself, but the weather was spoilt again. Believe me, it is not my work, the skies would not heed to the angry looks of Mrs. Gardiner who condemned such wet season. It kept pouring and pouring and for the next two days it rained with such passion and fury that it was believed it would last a fortnight.

Mr. Toddler had continuous back pains because of this change and complained a great deal at the office. For this reason he stopped coming and decided to remain at home until the rain stopped. It was torture for him, since he got bored easily and had no real company except for a very inefficient cook. He penned letters to Mrs. Gardiner and Lady Nordstrom which were neither considered of some importance nor replied, for the first was occupied with finishing her tasks at the "hamper of good will" which needed immediate attention since the ladies in the district were impatient for their turn and had started to whisper at this tardiness, and the latter was already in the process of preparing the formalities for the birthday party of a husband whom she was reminded of on such occasions.

Arthur, however, was not put off by such impoliteness, for he had his own evils to take care of. He was certain he was ill and, as a veritable hypochondriac, thought he had all the illnesses in the world, courtesy to the horrid back pain. He started having headaches and slept badly, yet he felt too indisposed to see a doctor.

He decided he would prepare his own herbs, as his grandmother had taught him when he was a young lad. Her formulas never failed and he considered most of the physicians of London quacks, compared to the vast knowledge of the deceased elder.

The great mischief with this man was that, no matter how good his intentions, he always managed to cause himself much trouble and vexation, whilst others around him took advantage of his weakness and thrived. For this reason, he was considered quite selfless. A close inspection would show he was not only a miser, but a most egocentric gentleman, who considered himself an altruist for hiding his great vanity in public.

And, if such summary has been made, it can only be concluded that, Mr. Toddler concocted a most suspicious herbal tea, an old family recipe and drank four cups of it with great pleasure. The result was that, by six o' clock in the evening he could no longer get out of bed.

Mr. Gardiner was alarmed to hear of this state and sent for the physician urgently at the poor man's abode, for which Arthur was very grateful, yet displeased at having to be chided for his recklessness. Both his friend and the doctor advised him to stay away from his grandmother's old recipes book.

The news of his sickness reached Lady Nordstrom and caused the woman much annoyance. She was neither worried nor alarmed, she was convinced he would be out and about in just a matter of days, but she was nevertheless distraught at being abandoned this way, a victim to the insufferably silent evenings of spring, when everyone went about having a good time. In fact, until she received proof from the physician, she had been certain that Arthur was staying in bed to avoid her dreary company.

The only person whose disposition was improved at hearing this was Mrs. Gardiner, who, though having some reserves, proposed that Mary should go and pay a visit to the gentleman immediately. She thought the company of friends to be ten times more necessary than the taking of medicine.

Of this futile good deed Mary was saved by Mr. Gardiner who insisted that, as long as they did not know what the man had exactly, Mary had better stay away.

So came Wednesday with more cheerful weather, though the only improvement was the lack of rain. The sky remained grey and the streets wet, a pleasant wind brushed the leaves and stormed the flowers, but a walk was suitable to revive one's spirits.

Mr. Toddler was agitated, for he had urgent business with Mr. Prowler and in his present condition there was not even a thought of it. I have told you he was a miser, therefore he would not let any opportunity slip, business was business, London was London, there was no time to dawdle. Indeed, when Mr. Gardiner called he was in a bad disposition, but seeing as his friend was preparing to go on a walk, he was struck by the possibility of procuring a messenger.

'I w-wonder Sir, whether… you would be a-apt to do me a favour,' he said languidly, caressing the quilt under her him as he lay seated in bed, with a mug of coffee on the bedside table.

His private chambers, though not exceedingly large, were not humble, for, being a man of no taste, he had acquired all sort of statues and figurines, paintings and sculptures, vases and painted pots, all together in a large stew of undesirable objects.

'Why, do you even doubt it, Arthur? I am at your service in your time of need.'

'I would not e-expect less from you…my c-cook has written this s-short note for me…I c-cant hold the pen…my hand t-trembles and I lose s-strength immediately. But I am…a-apprehensive of the post…you see, I n-need the note to arrive promptly…and I do not t-trust…'

'Say no more, Sir, if you wish me to deliver the note to Mr. Prowler indeed I shall,' spoke Mr. Gardiner kindly.

'O-Oh! Thank you, I am indebted…but p-please, give it to him personally…'

He pointed to the bedside table, on which two sheets of paper, mucked with ink and soot, lay carelessly. Mr. Gardiner raised an eyebrow disconcerted and he had every reason to. The _small note_ Arthur's cook had written was a two pages length epistle, written on both sides of the paper in small, yet coarse writing.

Nevertheless, the man folded the papers and placed them in his waistcoat pocket, promising to do exactly as expected. Yet it was quite early in the morning, he would return home first to have something to eat, after which he would take Mary out on a walk and would not forget of course to pass by Mr. Prowler's with the "note".

At hearing that Miss Bennet was walking out, Mr. Toddler implored she came to see him, in a manner which reminded one of the wailings of the patient for his old sickly nurse, who, however, held the laudanum he craved for.

Mr. Gardiner promised he would try to call in the afternoon with his niece, if it did not tire the ill man. Mr. Toddler was thoroughly pleased now and only wished his friend would leave so he could sprawl his legs comfortably and sip from his mug loudly.

At home, Mrs. Gardiner was happy at this prospect and insisted that they pay him a visit when they returned and had them take some oatcake with them, in case Mr. Toddler wished some sweets.

The morning had ended some time ago and Mary and Mr. Gardiner were walking the dismal streets in a happy mood, for, the people were scarce, the carts few, the chattering quiet, the smell of lime strong. It was perfect time for a walk; only, men and women did not encourage outings for fear of staining their dresses or walking alone, with no company and be seen as wondering fools. Luckily, Mary Bennet had no such notions of urban manners and was glad to smell the fresh air after the rain, just as she did in the country.

She was keen on seeing the parks again, but Mr. Gardiner was not an adept of such walks and considered it dull when there was so much to see in the city centre. She was disappointed by this, she thought Saint James' Park was one of the highest attractions and could not understand anyone's reluctance at visiting it every day.

'There are green lands everywhere Mary, there are three other parks just as large and charming, but you see all that in the country. What better scenery than that! All day long you gaze at the sunny meadows, you must make room for the attractions of this life, this life of town. The object of observation and reflection here is far more interesting for it deals with character, the essence of life. Here is where man shows who he truly is.'

'I was under the impression that such mediums offered the opportunity to be as deceitful as possible,' commented Mary.

'Ha! You were the one deceived, Mary, upon my word. There is nothing as intriguing as town. The hardships here do not compare to those of the country folk. The industrial revolution has taken us to a new level of prosperity, but the price we pay! Our pockets are bleeding, I tell you! I manage to survive, for I have always been active and my father left me his trade. Mrs. Gardiner's mother bestowed the family jewels upon her, we were very lucky indeed, but beyond that… You must breathe the air of London and see it reveals us all as we are.'

Mary believed such speech was very much affected and quite inadequate. His exaggerations came from his false perceptions not only of town, but of the country itself. The country was suffering equal changes, but when one does not live in one place, one cannot say. Only for this, she reluctantly remained silent and nodded her head in acquiescence.

'And how is Mr. Toddler getting along?' she asked in order to revert the subject.

'By God! The poor fellow, he is quite a miserable sight, Mary…but…ah! I completely forgot! He asked me to go see Prowler for him. Come! Let's have with it, before I forget completely,' he said changing their direction and heading for Rosebery Avenue. It was done so quickly, that Mary did not even have time to understand as she quickened her pace to suit her uncle's.

'But dear uncle, what is the haste? Why must we see Mr. Prowler?'

'Oh, he has asked me to deliver a…a note to his lawyer and he wouldn't trust anyone else. He is quite a careful fellow, probably urgent business and I promised I would do it as soon as possible.'

His niece was obviously not pleased to be rushed this way and felt embarrassed when she thought they would come unannounced and make a fool of themselves. In these situations there could be no prior announcement indeed, but that did not ease her. However, she was not as reluctant as before of seeing Mr. Prowler, she had found good company in him, which was hard to find at Longbourn and in all Hertfordshire.

When they arrived, it was quire clear the sky was gathering some small clouds for a short watering and they were lucky to step inside, when the drops started to fall.

Mr. Croswell was not at his desk and was not to be found, but that was not the only impediment. When Mr. Gardiner quickly searched the pockets of his waistcoat, he discovered with distraught that he had left the epistle home.

How could he have achieved such a deed? It was all Mrs. Gardiner's doing. She insisted on him wearing his flannel instead and only now did he realise he was not even wearing his old waistcoat.

He uttered an angry expletive which only he heard and turned to Mary sternly.

'Blast! I left the darned thing home! Now, I must return for it…' he muttered.

'Oh, how troublesome, uncle. But let me go, I shall walk promptly home and have it here in some minutes,' Mary offered kindly.

'Oh, heavens no! I would not hear of you walking alone through town like that when it's raining. No, I have my umbrella with me, I shall go and bring it myself, the walk home is not that long and I'll take a cab if necessary. No, you stay here in the hall, there are some chairs there, you can rest your feet and if Mr. Croswell comes, make sure you tell him of our misfortune, you will see, he will attend you like the gentleman he is.'

'What if you catch a cold? Let me be of assis…' she started

'There's no need, Mary, I would not have any peace to see you go like that in the rain with this cotton bonnet. You are not wearing wholesome clothes and it's not to be done. But I shall be back quickly. Well, I'm off then, not a minute to waste!'

With that, he took his umbrella and hat and went out in the rain, turning the corner and disappearing from the corner of her eye. She sighed frustrated and went to sit down, examining the shameful situation at hand.

However, her reflections were quite interrupted upon hearing some odd sounds coming from Mr. Prowler's office. She heard voices, worried ones, which debated something beyond her means of understanding.

Mary's ears were perceptive enough, she was certain she had heard the voice before, for she recognised James, but the other person remained in the shadow.

Curiosity got the better of her and she stepped closer to the door to listen. She propped her hands on the door hinges and tried hearing their speech. The rain was a great obstacle to this.

She grimaced at the extent of dust on the panels around and held her breath from having to smell it, but, unfortunately, that led to one predictable and almost tiresome consequence.

Her sneeze erupted in the hallway and in Mr. Prowler's office and James himself was instantly at the door, unlocking it and peering carefully outside.

Mary was surprised to see the door had been locked, but more surprised was James to find her there, at the door, eavesdropping like a common thief.

'Mary Bennet! What in Lord's name are you doing here?'

'I…I came with my uncle and…' she tried saying though her blush was most obvious, 'and he had to leave for a while to bring…a letter…'

'James, is there a problem?' asked a warm voice inside.

She frowned. She was certain now she knew the voice quite well.

'Who is it that you are seeing, Mr. Prowler?'

'I think you need to explain your sudden visit, first, Miss Bennet,' he said sternly.

'Miss Bennet? Mary Bennet?' inquired the voice inside again.

In a matter of seconds another head appeared next to James'.

'Theodore!' she exclaimed baffled.

And indeed, it was the mischievous thief who had a passion for her kind friend, it was the forlorn Theodore Stoddard.

James looked confused from one pair of eyes to another and was about to ask when Theodore interrupted him.

'Miss Bennet, it's so good to see you again, Georgiana has told me so much about you, she writes to me constantly and she always mentions her dear friend.'

'You two know each other?' the lawyer asked surprised.

'How could we not, if I love her friend dearly and she has saved me once?' Theodore replied naively.

To this, Mr. Prowler only raised an eyebrow significantly.

He quickly recovered, however and looked around carefully, then he took Mary's hand and rushed her in, locking the door after her.

'Well, come on, come quickly, let's not sit on the threshold, it's quite risky.'

As soon as Mary found herself in his study again she turned towards the two men, folding her hands.

'Mr. Prowler, what in Lord's name is Theodore, a well-known thief by craft, doing in your office and in your close company, I presume?' she asked sternly.

'You need not talk of me as if I am not here, Miss Bennet,' Theodore replied offended. 'Why should I not enlist the help of my friend, James?'

'Friend!' she exclaimed. 'Mr. Prowler, you are friends with one of London's most notorious thieves?'

'Now, calm down, Miss Bennet, this is not time for your sermons, you know nothing of this man and you know nothing of our connection,' James replied annoyed.

'You have my approval to explain, then, Sir.'

'Mr. Stoddard is here as a client and friend, indeed and no matter his profession, his conscience is clear and his heart is pure in these circumstances. When a man is wronged I do not care what he does for a living, I help him.'

'Well, what morals you have!' she exclaimed. 'I suppose he is in trouble with the law! But you promised Sir,' she said turning towards Theodore, 'you would stop this _business_ of yours and become a decent man, you promised this to Georgiana, she told me.'

'And I have, Miss Bennet! I have!' Theodore cried abjectly. 'It was only a grave mistake…if you must be informed of what occurred, you will and maybe then you shall have a change of mind.'

'Theodore,' James said turning towards him, 'you want Miss Bennet to know your misfortune? Are you sure you should tell her? She is not close to you or a relative.'

'No, but she is the closest friend of my beloved, that is enough. I do not wish her to have such opinion of me, I wish to correct it as much as I can.'

Mary looked at both disconcerted.

'I wish to have this explained, friend or no friend of Georgiana's,' she replied vexed.

James sighed. 'Very well…'

He pulled a chair for her and sat down himself with Theodore.

'Sit, Miss Bennet, you shall hear the entire story.'

Mr. Stoddard wiped his sweating brow and smiled at her sadly as she seated herself.

'You see, Miss Bennet, misfortune is like a curse, it haunts me everywhere I go.

I did not lie to Georgiana, I did quit the business. Two months ago I was already out of the fellowship. My dear old friends, good partners I've done business with did not wish to look me in the eye anymore. I was a traitor in their eyes and a dangerous character. They feared I would bring them in front of the law for a reward in money. Idiots! But what could I do? I struggled on. My sister, poor thing, fell ill again. She has a terrible constitution, she was underfed as she was growing up, it was terrible for her. In any case, I was working hard to put away some money for her and I was constantly thinking years would pass until I could marry Georgiana properly. My liquor business did not go so well. Ever since I abandoned the fellowship of thieves, things have been going ruckus for me. I managed to make no profit, but I was surviving somehow.

I admit, I often thought that if I proved I was a wholesome man, perhaps the Darcys would not be so against our reunion. I know I have nothing to offer her but my love, but I thought that was enough and I even had the shameful thought that her family would have enough for the both of us, even for my sickly sister. Of course, I wish to work for myself and support my wife with all that I can, but a lady like Georgiana…living in our old tattered house…I could barely stand it.'

He took a deep breath before he continued his story, his face showing much sorrow.

'However, I was bent on succeeding, on somehow proving that I could take her for wife. I would not give up. My luck had it that my sister has many admirers. She is quite pretty indeed, but it's her manner that attracts men, not her looks. Her boldness and enthusiasm are contagious, I say! One of her acquaintances owned a tobacco shop in our proximity and was quite well off. My sister even hoped to marry him. But his attentions fell on me as well, he watched me at work, he inspected my business and he was quite pleased with my capacities and dexterity. I know how to read and write, have notions of algebra and economics. In short, I would be quite useful to him. He proposed a miracle. He wanted us to unite our businesses and become partners,' he said smiling.

_It's getting quite popular these days…_Mary thought amused.

'This was…this was a true stroke of luck for me. I was thrilled and accepted immediately. I would of course, be his clerk but we would have our own business and now, it would go about much better, I had many hopes and many plans of course. And I still hope and dare. My partner, Mr. Russel wanted to marry my beloved sister, Margaret.

And that is when the misfortune fell on us. Are you acquainted with a…_gentleman_ called Paul Morel?'

Mary shook her head curiously. The story was getting more and more complicated and she was avidly following everything, trying to guess, as if she was reading a novel.

'Hm!' exclaimed James. 'Every man who does not know him is lucky, he is a vile vermin with no care or respect but for himself. A most disagreeable character and one with whom I am forced to interact.'

'And what is your connection with this Paul Morel?' she asked Theodore.

'It is not I…' he said bitterly. 'This accursed fate had it that he beheld my sister. He caught a glimpse of her at one of his ludicrous feasts, for he is a foul extravagant and a wretched womanizer. She was accompanied by Mr. Russel, and, though he had not even looked well at her, it was enough to observe her from afar, with or without partner. Her charms are quire mesmerising, but Paul Morel usually managed to have whatever he wanted. The next day we received his card and many bouquets of roses. She obviously refused him, she would not have him for the world, for she is excessively fond of Mr. Russel. But Morel would not have any of that. He quickly found out whose sister she was and…he made sure to let me know of his power.'

'What do you mean?' Mary inquired.

'Morel is one of the most influential men in London,' James replied instead. 'He practically rules the black market in town. His relations at court extend impressively since he is brother with the judge and has many men working for him. Such a dangerous fellow is not stupid, I tell you.'

'Consequently,' Theodore continued, 'he has enough power to throw me in jail for life. And he threatened to do just so, unless I offered him my sister for one night. That is all he asked, one night. My sister would not hear of it and I declined angrily. But he threatened not only to ruin me, but my good friend, Mr. Russel, as well. He said he would have my sister no matter what. Imagine my distress! I would not only lose my sister and my friends, I would lose my freedom and never be able to see Georgiana again, I would lose my business and be lost forever!'

He sank in his chair bitterly and remained silent for a while.

'I came to my dear friend James, with whom I've been acquainted for some time, to ask for his help, desperately. If anyone can untangle this, he is the man.'

After having heard all this, Mary admitted Theodore was not as wily and misleading as she had first made him out to be. He was a helpless creature now and he would accept any help. And she pitied him, for who would not? It was a tricky situation and she wondered at Mr. Prowler's pensive looks. Did he have a way to solve all this?

'How did you become acquainted with Mr. Prowler?' she asked.

'James was assisting a stock broker who was part of our fellowship and he introduced us. We remained friends ever since.'

'Even though…well, even considering your prospects, back then?'

'What I did was my own business, he said, he only liked to converse with me and drink wine together. He has been a great help to me.'

'But do not you fear this friendship will bring trouble?' asked Mary.

'If every friendship of mine brought trouble, I would have long been working in the mines as a collier,' James replied chuckling. 'I appreciate the man for his character and wit. Theodore impressed me for he stole out of stupidity and selflessness. Proof of this is his house, which has still remained a poor beggar's dwelling though he was never destitute.'

'I spent it all on my sister and my business which…never advanced so well. I must say with time, I came to enjoy it. It was a game you see. Sometimes, I even stole something that was challenging and returned it the next day.'

He smiled reminiscently. 'That is how I met Georgiana.'

Mary shook her head amused. She found a way to laugh about all this in her mind, but was fairly worried about Georgiana's suitor.

'Well…what can be done now?' she asked at length.

'We thought of having Margaret go after all and have him put to sleep when they are alone, but the predicament is that Margaret has once again fallen ill and is in no condition to leave the house,' said Mr. Prowler.

'Well! What a plan indeed! And wouldn't he discover he had been put to sleep?' she asked.

'We would have taken her out and brought her back in the early morning next to him, in bed, but that cannot be done now. And even this plan is risky. I can understand your shocked looks, but we could think of nothing better,' said Theodore looking down.

Mary was about to reply but just then a knock was heard at the door.

'Mr. Prowler? Are you in there, Sir?'

Mr. Gardiner's voice bid them all silent.

'I've come for some emergency on behalf of Mr. Toddler. Is Mary there? I left her here and…'

James instantly got up and pulled the drawers glued to the opposite wall away, revealing a crypt under the office. It was some sort of archive where he kept the most important files, but now he quickly pushed Theodore inside the small place and pulled the drawers back.

Mary watched this in utter terror and shock but didn't let out a word.

'Come here!' he whispered to her loudly as he pointed to a seat next to his desk. He placed a book in front of her and hurried to unlock the door.

'Mr. Gardiner, I am profusely apologetic, I only just heard you, you needed to speak louder,' he said letting him in.

'Well, that's quite right, Sir, but…' he stopped when he noticed Marry sitting at the desk, deeply enraptured in the book.

'Well, there you were, Mary dear!'

'Uncle!' she exclaimed as she gazed up. 'I…Mr. Prowler found me in the hall and…'

'And she told me all about your call,' he said smiling amiably. 'I was very pleased to have such a companion, for you know it was quite dull and so I proposed to show her some of my books. She is very keen on jurisprudence, I must say! She would be a perfect student.'

Mr. Gardiner's face brightened considerably.

'Oh, how lovely, Mary! I am proud to hear this, a woman of your character and mind need not worry about means of education. Why, Mr. Prowler, I am very much indebted to you for having piqued her interest.'

Mary could only look down humbly, though she was actually trying to stop her smile spreading on her face.

'I am the one indebted for such an enthusiastic student. She wants to learn all she can about my business, I am quite flattered,' he said smiling towards her.

'Are you really, Sir? Mary, I gather, has made a good opinion with you. But her qualities are not to be undermined for her simple lack of charms. Why, any respectable gentleman should feel very proud to have such a wife, I say,' he added beating the young lawyer on the shoulder.

'I can only agree he would be a fortunate gentleman. But the lady would do well to be knowledgeable in various circumstances. I would be most happy to teach her the little bit I know.'

Mr. Gardiner was invited to sit down, but he declined it politely. He was very much excited at hearing all this.

'Would you really? But I do not know if it is so proper, Sir…such an arrangement…_ I_ would be thoroughly pleased! But a young lady of almost twenty could not attend a single young man every day, you must know.'

'Oh, but whoever said every day? Why, you could accompany her, Sir and leave her in my care whilst you have your business done in town. Then you can come and collect her and you have my word she will be found as you left her and as you saw her now.'

At this Mr. Gardiner blinked confused.

'Mary, would you like that?'

'Oh, very much dear uncle, I find the subject challenging… and quite suitable for my intellect. I always had a deep concern for the law,' she said seriously.

_Why did I say that? Where is this going?_

'Did you really? I had no idea! But you should have told me earlier…'

'And you know,' she added, 'that books cannot make up for a teacher.'

'Exactly my thoughts. She would need a suitable tutor in this and I can offer my services if you wish it,' he told Mr. Gardiner serenely.

'But would not this encumber you from work, Sir?' asked her uncle.

'Not at all, I would only call her in the morning two hours at most, when there is no one really, it would be just right.'

'Well…you do not have many days left of your stay, Mary. I suppose you should take advantage of them in a way as to improve your mind. I trust Mr. Prowler to be an honourable man and I suppose two hours shan't be too much,' he said unsure.

'It would be enough for me, I assure you. I would be in no one's way and… we could have our walks just the same,' she said.

'Well! If you really wish it, so it should be! You have almost convinced me. Mrs. Gardiner will have some frets about it, though.'

To this Mary bowed her head ashamed.

'But I am sure when she hears who your tutor is, she will be very pleased, yes very pleased indeed,' he said wily, winking at her.

Mary did not understand all this trickery, but it was quite simple if one discovered the source of it all. Mr. Gardiner had misunderstood his wife's wishes of Mary becoming an object for Mr. Toddler. Instead, he was now quite sure she had meant Mr. Prowler, for who could be a better match? Yes, he thought the gentleman must be thinking of it too. Why then would he tutor her freely, risking two hours of his business for her sake?

He smiled pleased. His dear Lizzie had married so well and he knew he could do the same for Mary.

'How good then!' exclaimed Mr. Prowler. 'It is settled then, I shall expect her tomorrow morning. She will bring writing utensils and paper.'

'Yes, yes, Mary has brought all she needs with her. It will be done then. But let me insist that you come to our house as well. I am sure my library is an adequate place for such study.'

'Oh, it would be slightly bothersome, though it would give me much pleasure. But I do not suppose you have law books in your library. Otherwise, I would have to carry mine with me, which…would be quite a task,' he said pointing at the books around.

'Ah, I see! But well, you can always come and study there, I offer it anyway, Mrs. Gardiner will feel much at rest to have you there.'

'Uncle,' Mary began trying to change the subject, 'did you find the note?'

'Oh! Good Lord! I had almost forgotten,' he said taking out the letter. 'My actual task, Sir, was to deliver this to you. It's from Mr. Toddler, the poor man is stuck in bed and trusted only me with it, he said it was urgent.'

James nodded his head and took the papers from him, inspecting them quickly as Mary got up to go.

'Hm! All this could have been reduced to three sentences,' remarked James.

'Is it anything serious, Sir?'

'Nothing of the sort I cannot do,' he said smiling. 'I will call on Mr. Toddler some time this afternoon.'

'And very well you do, the man needs assistance. Oh, but if you go, we need not go anymore. You see, Mrs. Gardiner thought we should visit, but I believe Mary is quite tired. My wife gave me some oatcake for him. I left it with Mr. Croswell. Could you be so kind as to take it to him for us?' Mr. Gardiner asked.

'Nothing would please me more, you need not worry. Mr. Toddler will have sufficient company,' he said.

'Excellent! Well, we should be going then, we have imposed on your kindness for far too long. I thank you once more for the help you give my dear niece, I am sure she is very grateful.'

'Very much,' added Mary looking down.

_Why in the world did I say such aberrations? Where is this all going to? What is he up to? Well, in any case, I bet we shall not be studying the law. _

'She will owe you a great deal, so much so that you will have to accept our invitation to come by our humble abode from time to time, I believe Mrs. Gardiner would be thrilled, she adores having guests and you are quite a favourite,' he added smiling.

'I am sure, when I find time I shall come by for those excellent puddings. Well, then, am I to expect Miss Bennet tomorrow?'

'Well, Mary?' asked her uncle.

She sighed. One could wonder how she got into such ridiculous schemes.

'Yes, certainly, I shall be here with my uncle at eight sharp,' she replied.

'Wonderful, then,' said her uncle smiling, 'we've arranged it then. We'll be coming tomorrow.'

'I shall be expecting you,' he said kissing her hand and bowing at Mr. Gardiner. 'Goodbye!'

As soon as Mary and Mr. Gardiner left, Theodore was set free from the crammed space he had inhabited, but their conversation which continued for half an hour more was not available to my ears, therefore only Mary can cast some light upon the business tomorrow morning.

* * *

Mrs. Gardiner was decidedly not pleased with this arrangement. She was shocked and angry, but that was putting it lightly. She saw the entire affair as scandalous and an ample subject of gossip.

'A young girl and a man like him alone for two hours! Pshaw!'

'But my dear, you like Mr. Prowler, he is a most honourable fellow,' her husband protested.

'Oh, I do not doubt it! But it is quite inconvenient. Her reputation would be the subject of all gabbers. I would much prefer it if she went instead to visit poor Mr. Toddler who needs some company. The law! Why would a woman need that?'

'My dear, it would be the same if she spent two hours with the sickly gentleman than if she spent them occupying her mind. She would be in the company of men in both cases. But rather than dawdling about with Arthur, who is in no condition to be agreeable, she could improve her intellect and…well I was hoping, become a good friend of Mr. Prowler's.'

Her wife looked at him baffled.

'What are you thinking, Sir? Do not you remember what we heard? That Miss Durant from France has set her eyes on him and his mother is interested in this most agreeable match?'

'Pah! All rumours, my dear. They are not betrothed, not even properly acquainted! Besides, there is a long way to marriage and I think Mr. Prowler finds Mary superior to the knick-knacks of Miss Durant who is only proficient in dress.'

Mrs. Gardiner was not much persuaded in considering a lawyer a better match for her niece. Her heart was still set on the shy and cumbersome Arthur, but, in time, relented when she saw Mary had accepted it as well.

For the first time, she didn't feel angry at seeing her uncle manipulate his wife, though, if she had heard at least half of their conversation she would have had reasons to shrink with horror at the peculiar ideas her uncle had.

The mindless chatter of the two Gardiners continued until well into the night. The reader can already guess the bitter arguments and amusing notions both entertained. I would, however, like to make you aware of the fact that Mr. Gardiner had no sense of reputation. His wife knew more how this could damage a woman for life, but he did not pay heed to it. He was a man and his selfishness turned into selfless acts only when it brought him credit. In this situation, what he considered a favourable match could only be indebted to him. He already gloated over his success and thought with pleasure how the Bennets would thank him so and his sister would be so proud and happy. He considered himself even a better guardian of the girl than her own father and knew Mr. Bennet could never secure her a suitable husband.

Mrs. Gardiner thought differently. She, like her husband, wanted the credit for herself, but how could she achieve that if Mary was united with another man? They both did not even suspect their young niece had no plans of marrying either.

This strange battle between husband and wife was won this time by the uncle, only because men had a fortitude women sometimes lacked and he could please his wife just as well. He offered her the chance of trying to match Mary and Arthur at the birthday party in the honour of Sir Nordstrom. His wife foolishly accepted the challenge.

One can wonder if people did not have other occupations such as tending to their home, their business, their pleasures, their comfort, but these were the most scheming husband and wife in all London and nothing gave them more pleasure than this. Secretly, of course.

The next morning Mary was in agitated spirits. Her uncle took this as excitement and secret joy of meeting the gentleman again. However, Mary was having different thoughts. She was excessively curious about the affair and wondered whether Theodore would be there. She rushed through breakfast, commenting they would be late.

'Well! How anxious you are to go! Remember your place, propriety Mary,' Mrs. Gardiner added affected. 'I hope your uncle takes care of you well.'

'I certainly will, have no worry of that wife. I will leave her in the charge of not only Mr. Prowler but Mr. Croswell himself. And you know, with such people one cannot feel but safe.'

His wife sniffed upset, but replied nothing else. She advised Mary on her departure to take a shawl as not to have her neck too exposed.

* * *

Mary saw Mr. Gardiner's figure depart in the now clustered street. His figure was lost with the others and the only option she had now was to turn and face the already busy lawyer, who stood at his desk, as if waiting.

She had to admit, she was slightly frightened as well, she always was when she knew nothing of what followed. What intentions did the gentleman have after all?

'Alright,' she said as she faced him, 'what is this all about, Sir?'

'What can you possibly mean?'

'Why did you propose these morning meetings?' she inquired.

'Well, why did you accept?'

'I…I was…that's not important! I demand you tell me, for I do not suppose we shall actually study the law.'

'I am impressed, how did you ever draw such a conclusion?' he asked sarcastically.

She did not have time to reply, for someone knocked at the door and Theodore entered consequently.

'Ah, Miss Bennet, you are here! James told me you would be,' he smiled kissing her hand.

'What do you mean?'

'He considered my sister would perhaps feel better with some company. He was sure you would like to see her and could perhaps alleviate some of her pains. She is very lonely, I'm afraid.'

_Why does everyone consider me a proper nurse? Quite a mystery…_

'I…I guess I could come…'

'We should hurry, then, we only have two hours,' Mr. Prowler said putting on his coat.

She raised her eyebrow questioningly. All this had been done so she could see Theodore's sister? It was hard to believe but she was rushed out with the two that she didn't have much time to consider.

They took a cab, for their dwelling was in the lower parts of town and the streets were far too crowded for such a long walk.

All the way there Mary cursed her lack of fortitude to refuse this suspicious invitation. She would have rather turned back home, only she could not jump out of the vehicle or make it stop in any way.

Mr. Prowler noticed her worried looks and turned to her.

'You need not fear, Miss Bennet. It's simply a visit. I _did _tell you, you are not what one would call a tempting victim.'

Her anger rose up as she gave him a shocked look.

'Well! I did not suppose that!'

He smiled condescendingly and remained quiet leaving her to fume in her seat.

When they stepped out of the carriage, Mary found herself in front of what looked like an old public house. The house was of decent size but such decrepitude reigned over it that one could not peer through the windows and the front door looked ready to fall.

No matter, they went in cautiously and she discovered that inside it was slightly different. An impeccable order was found in every room and there were only four. The furniture was not scarce, but not enough for two dwellers, especially a sickly one.

The rooms were cold too as they had only one fireplace in his sister's room and the entire place smelled of some substance which she knew was used to kill rats.

However, it was welcoming enough for one young man who had just started working seriously and a sister more famed for her gentlemen friends.

Theodore rushed to his sister's room to see if she was awake which unfortunately she was not. She slept soundly more than twelve hours a day and would wake up an hour later.

'It's how she is, but she is charming, you shall see, she will be very happy to see you,' he said. 'Might I fetch you some tea?'

'Yes…that would be nice,' she replied looking around.

Mr. Prowler and she entered the small yet cosy living room where a couch and some armchairs were placed idly around. There were three coffee tables and many newspapers spread on them. On almost every newspaper lay some odd looking fan.

She noticed a small kitten was hiding behind one of the chairs, but seeing as it looked at her threateningly she did not encourage it to come out.

The room was strange, one could say, the wall paper was so yellow and old that no improvement could have fixed it, but it gave the room a feeling of ancient times.

However, the attraction of the room was not the wallpaper. It was quite a large portrait placed high on the wall, above where a fireplace should have been.

Mary was enchanted by it as she stood watching.

The lady in the portrait had black curls which fell on her back and shoulders. Some were pulled up and some she held with her hand. Her eyes were dark and warm as she smiled happily, looking somewhere in the horizon. She was dressed with a green dress with a generous opening, emphasised by the numerous curls. Her face was pale but attractive. Indeed, she was no great beauty, but something in her made you stop and stare, almost put you under a spell. The scenery behind her was that of a ball room which looked empty and forlorn.

She was puzzled.

'That is Margaret Stoddard,' James answered her unspoken question.

'Oh!' she exclaimed. 'How charming she looks, I see now why that Morel fellow was enchanted… Her complexion is good and her face has taste.'

James sat in one of the armchairs and peered at her amused.

'Yes, I dare say she is very pretty. Her brother is very proud of her. Though she looks so different, they are brothers, it is felt in all their ways.'

Just then, Theodore arrived with tea and some bread and jam, all placed on a small plate. He placed it on the table between himself and James and sat down himself.

'I see you are admiring my beautiful sister, Miss Bennet,' he said pleased.

'Why yes, I am, she is delightful, worthy of all compliments. I hope her character fits this pretty face well.'

'It does, I assure you, there never has been a gentler creature.'

Some minutes passed in silence in which Mary gazed longingly at the fair "creature".

At length Mr. Prowler put down his cup firmly.

'Miss Bennet,' he called.

She turned surprised. 'What is it, Sir?'

He smiled and simply stared at her. After a while he lowered his eyes.

'So I was right,' he muttered under his breath. 'Theodore, I want you to take a good look at Miss Bennet.'

His companion glanced at him questioningly, but James pointed towards her. Theodore complied and looked.

The trouble with Miss Bennet is that people do not take time to look at her. Her plain face goes unnoticed, but her fine, healthy features can be selected from the assembly that is her physiognomy and blunders can be overlooked, if one has patience.

She looked at them, curiously. She had taken her bonnet off in the hall and her hair was pulled slackly at the back of her head, yet many threads of hair were coming out on her shoulders. Her shawl had been removed, it was herself in the utmost candour of the moment. Her eyes had a strange glint in them that came from admiring Margaret.

Theodore stood still watching her. He finally noticed it too. There was no doubt about it. How is it that he had not remarked this before? With some improvement…he dared think…

'What is it?' she asked them. 'Why are you looking at me like that?'

She noticed they were staring at the portrait and back at her. She followed their looks.

'What…'

Then it dawned on her.

She looked back at Margaret and frowned furious.

'No. Absolutely not,' she retorted.

James and Theodore shared a smile as they got up.

'What are you doing? I said no.'

Theodore looked at her sadly with imploring eyes.

'No. You will not convince me. Not now, not ever!'

They both stood with their hands apart looking at her, pleading her with their eyes.

'Stop doing that! I said no. Ab-so-lu-te-ly not!'

'But Miss Bennet, only now do I notice…'

'That you are quite a look alike,' continued James.

'Ha! A look alike! I can't compare to her. I shan't do it. And there is nothing you can tell me that will make me accept!'

'I cannot believe I accepted this! Upon my word this is most scandalous!' she exclaimed after half an hour. Mary Bennet could be persuaded, it was a miracle. She sat with them in the living room, trembling still of what she was being asked.

'Miss Bennet, it is nothing of the sort you think. I have a plan that will…' started James.

'Oh! Another plan, is it?'

'If you let me finish…'

'How will we hide this from my aunt and uncle?'

'I will see to it all,' he said simply. 'All we need is your efficient cooperation. Four days from now, Paul Morel will be giving a Ball in honour of his brother's newborn child. Theodore will make sure to tell him he will be there with you to escort. Make no mistake you will have to follow him after the feast to his rooms, however…a good dose of laudanum will fix him for all the night. You shall slip it into his drink and we will take you out when the deed is done. Close to morning you will return to his rooms and lie down next to him in bed. You will have to persuade him you did spend the night together.'

She listened to all this with her mouth agape. Mary Bennet to do all this! Lydia was much more apt for such job.

'Do not be too frightened, it is not hard to persuade a man like him, especially after a dose of laudanum which should make him be in quite high spirits. We shall be waiting outside when everything is done.'

'Outside?' she asked.

'We will be there all the time if anything should occur, thus you are safe, have no fear. Once he drinks the drug there is no need for you to worry any longer.'

'But…but how do you suppose I can…I can do all you said!? It's…impossible! I am no flirt, I assure you of that and I have no…no skills for this…seducing men!'

'I know that very well,' he retorted, 'but you have four days to try your best. Margaret I am sure, even if confined to her room, can more than help you learn those…skills you mentioned.'

'They can't exactly be learned! I cannot compare to…'

'It is not as hard as you think. I wouldn't have asked you if I thought you couldn't do it. Besides…' he said, 'you are our only hope.'

She gave them an upset look as she fidgeted with the sleeves of her dress.

'Four days from now…it's the same day as Lord Nordstrom's birthday party.'

'So I've heard. And you must attend, of course. But you do not have to stay for the entire feast…' James said smiling.

'But they will surely notice I have disappeared!'

'Do not fret. There is someone of some influence in the Gardiners' household whom I can persuade to help us.'

'Still…these four days I must come here?'

'I believe you will now understand my reason for the study sessions…' he said amused.

'You…you planned all this ahead!' she exclaimed.

'Well, of course I did. I am not a lawyer for nothing.'

'Yes, you are worth your pay,' she spat sarcastically. 'But depend upon it, I will ruin all this scheme of yours. I have no talent for bewitching men, or anything similar to it.'

'Perhaps not, but you are kind and amiable, not bad looking at all, I would say, Miss Bennet. I believe you could be of great help. We have no one else, we would be most grateful, my family which is my sister and Georgiana! Georgiana would love you ten times better, for you will make it possible for us to reunite,' Theodore said.

She doubted she could do all that and stay out of trouble. In fact, she doubted the entire affair. How would she escape the guarding looks of the Gardiners? How would she be out an entire night just like that, without anyone noticing? How would she pretend to be a pretty young flirt that Margaret was? How could she possibly attract Paul Morel and convince him of her charms when she had none? The only fortunate thing was that Morel had not seen Margaret well enough to distinguish her physiognomy. She even hoped that upon seeing her, he would cancel all his plans with her.

Indeed, Mary Bennet knew she had accepted to save poor Theodore from prison, his sister from destitution and being sent to brothels and Georgiana from so much sorrow. However, she highly doubted she could pull it off, of all people. It was impossible for her to contrive such an image of herself and decided Mr. Prowler was mad and blind at the same time.

And she had only four days!

_How in God's name do I get myself into these things?_

'Well, I believe my sister might be awake,' Theodore spoke at length.

They all rose to go to her room and as Mary walked in front, James whispered something in Theodore's ear.

'We must discuss now how we shall deal with Mr. Darcy's dilemma as well.'


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Chequered

Miss Stoddard looked excessively pretty even bedridden, as Mary and the two men could assess without any shadow of subjectivity. Her room was improved by the existence of a fireplace and the comfort of a large bed, filled with blankets.

On two chairs in the room lay some forgotten dresses that Mary thought becoming, yet not suited for a beauty like hers, which called for sweetness of manner.

As for her presumption that her looks equalled her character, here she would have some pains in justifying her supposition.

Margaret was anything but modest of her station and merely smiled indifferently to Mary Bennet upon hearing her brother call her one of the most amiable ladies he had met. Her fraternal love hid a jealousy aroused at any moment.

She doted on Mr. Prowler, however and considered his word law. She even attempted to stand in bed to receive him better, but admitted her lack of strength.

When her brother started on the subject of Morel once more, Margaret turned her nose upset and tried looking away.

'You have entreated Mr. Prowler to come to see me in this state, no doubt, to make sure I was not bluffing my fall. I suspected it so, that you would not believe me, Sir. But cannot you see how dejected I feel?'

Both men reassured her it was nothing of the sort and her state was well known to both. They had come to communicate her some good news, something which should make her attend to her future prospects with not so grave a look.

When her brother had related to her their decidedly vapid plans of tricking a man like Morel, the sister could not suppress a small chuckle as she peered at Mary.

'And you mean to say this poor creature here will be made to help us drag ourselves out of the mud?' she inquired mockingly.

Mary could not but flinch at such verbal spat, but remained silent. She could not call Margaret impolite, for, she was right to consider everything her friends concocted quite out of all established propriety.

Her own heart sank beneath her as she sat and listened, her mortification increasing with every moment. Her tranquillity was something she could not regain and needed the comfort of solitude to meditate on the events of the day.

However, Margaret Stoddard was all smiles and nods when she was asked to be of service for the deed and help Mary prepare for the Ball. She confirmed her _talents_ would be more than enough to impress on Mary the firmness of a woman in the company of men and would be more than happy to assist with this as long as it meant a chance of all troubles to end.

Theodore's sister accepted all this, for she considered herself very fortunate not to bear the task given to Mary. Therefore, her interest in the scheme would recommend her good intentions and no one would suspect her of selfishness.

When it was all talked of, the same sister gave many accolades to the wily lawyer who had made up such _efficient_ plan as to secure their secret and make use of Miss Mary without harming her reputation. She now could only inquire if Miss Bennet was of the sort to seem interested in studying the law.

'Oh, I believe there was no other young lady so fit for this inquiry. Her wish to grasp the essence of all which occupies the mind is evident in all her actions.'

This being settled, Mary only looked in wonder at Margaret, who considered the affair faultless and perfectly well established. It did not take long for her to reach this conclusion, for she was in the habit of agreeing with men just as much as Mrs. Gardiner agreed with her husband. To this, Mary shook her head inwardly and felt very bitter indeed. To her, nothing of this arrangement seemed in the least proper and she condemned the thing for being too impossible for even thought. However, she did not ask herself why she had agreed without thinking on it and without considering all precautions. She had gone and softened, weakened her refusal, melted her already pained heart at hearing the fate of this unfortunate family.

One astute observer would remark that she was inconsistent, beyond all folly. That she could be quite a perverse creature and act on her own stead when occasion arose. One could also remark she was infinitely vain by considering herself necessary to the scheme, important and worthy of all the praise that could be given to Margaret. And finally, it could be said she was nurturing a reputation and an opinion of herself which were both deceitful.

However, do we not know Mary Bennet and her steady character? Perhaps we cannot look in the deepest recesses of her mind, but we can observe from past behaviour that her inconsistencies lay only in her naiveté and her want to do good to everyone. This must be inspected; this desire to do well in every matter. Did it arise from self-importance and pride, from want of notice and praise, from want of shewing herself as superior in manner? Or did it arise from her gentle heart which she rarely let free, from her loveable nature that condemned all cruelty and encouraged sweetness and affection beyond all merits?

I would say both and I do not think I would be much mistaken, for Miss Bennet was not a heroine much like those sought in Sir Scott's tales. Mary was the sort of creature not to be confused with the model of propriety or the likeness of impudence.

It is in a man's being to have both the evil and the good and she lacked neither, though we preserve in the thought that good was her obvious sovereign of heart.

Perhaps it was both goodness and evilness that guided her in the moment of her acceptance. Her habit of self-sacrifice had been procured living amongst her younger sisters, while her compassionate and keen character allowed her to be of much service to many a poor soul in her neighbourhood. It cannot be said she took care of the poor, no young lady of her statute was made to do so directly, there were other means of helping the destitute. But she always took company with the elderly ladies, sad widows with no joy but the thread of their own needle-work, with no book to light their way but that of sermons. Mary always played with the children in the village and gave them sweets and apples from the family larder and she recommended herself as help to her father and her mother at all times.

And yet, Mary Bennet was selfish and thought well of herself, like most ladies of her enlightened mind did. Her accomplishments, whilst deprecated in her eyes, she descried in her conduct and she could only feel pleasure at knowing she was acting righteously when others were considering their enjoyment only.

Her pride sometimes extended to her benevolence and she could not distinguish at times, whether she was acting on the case of her own good will or on her wish to be acclaimed. One cannot be born with perfect judgement, nor can one refrain from erring, one must see life as a chance to atone and do better.

Such thoughts of herself and the world she entertained often and, at this moment, she was considering much of what had been said with a constricted heart.

It was quite a relief to her when Mr. Prowler, taking out his watch exclaimed it was well past an hour and a half and they would need to return promptly to his office.

Upon arriving home, Mary expected to be inquired of her studies numerous questions by both uncle and aunt, but neither persevered in doing so. Mrs. Gardiner had her head in much too excitement and preparation for Sir Nordstrom's birthday and had ordered two dresses which she noticed had a blunder or two. As for her uncle, he was a tired sight, for the absence of Mr. Toddler increased his work and he derived no pleasure from too much talk in the afternoon, when he liked best to rest by the fireplace with some tobacco to chew on.

The situation was comfortable to Mary who wanted nothing more than to retire to her room. There, she would think bitterly of her actions that day and confirm her suspicions that she had been fooled by her own vanity.

Her wish to have both Theodore and Margaret secured from harm could not be a solid reason, other notions of pride interfered, but it was the dread of refusing once more that tortured her. For, if she were not to follow upon this scheme, Georgiana's beloved would perhaps rot in prison and she did not even wish to consider what would happen to Margaret. The consciousness of being the one to cause such distress, of being the guilty one who would bring all this misfortune made her shed some painful tears. At the same time, the awareness of being a schemer herself, of acting against all she thought was right and proper, the image of herself as a coquette added double pain to this sorrow.

However, she did not have time to exhaust herself with such diffuse feelings, for she discovered on her bed a letter from Mrs. Bennet.

The lady wrote in sober tones and asked first of the welfare of her father, who had not yet returned home and whether he was enjoying London alright. His wife did not feel alarmed at his longer stay, for she could only suppose men were prone to stay up to a month in town and seek all that could be sought.

After such polite considerations, followed something very much distressing for Mary and for the whole of Hertfordshire.

Reverend Abbot, dear, sweet, kind reverend Abbot had passed away three days ago. The cause of this sad death was simple old age and much exertion for his parish, a thing which was praised beyond word, but now quite useless. His sudden collapse had affected the entire neighbourhood and many a lady came to weep at his grave.

Mrs. Bennet told Mary of all that had transpired; how, upon this unexpected sorrow, all the Abbots of the family from every corner of England had reunited and how of all his children, poor fourteen year old Michael Abbot had cried the most.

Such news could not be received calmly and poor Mary felt so much regret at being away and enjoying herself in town, instead of doing her duty at home, that the remembrance of her other injudicious actions could only nurture her self-hate.

When it was time for dinner she was decided not to go to Mr. Prowler's office the morrow, but she could not think of any excuse to give to her uncle.

No, she reconsidered and thought she should act differently and try to avoid any suspicious behaviour. She should better agree with it and bear what followed, though she knew not what that was.

* * *

The next three days were a tedious passage for Miss Bennet, who was rushed constantly to attend Miss Margaret and was forced to stand her presence for two whole hours in which she would be talked to with such superiority she could hardly believe her ears.

From the first day, Margaret had tried teaching her to use the fan properly. She had insisted it was a delicate art and, when used properly, could attract the attention of anyone within her distance.

She had persuaded her that an elegant walk was that where the head was not only high, but the shoulders held back so Miss Bennet's fine neck could be praised.

All sorts of idle words were said about dress and fashion, about hair and curls and many an impertinent comments that Mary strayed from. She was advised to braid her hair immediately and produce a wave of hair she lacked. Her face was too white and whilst a fair complexion was desired, a blush must spread across her cheeks from time to time.

'I declare! God has bestowed upon you all that is plain and it will not do. People seek something unique, something even peculiar to catch their eye. All I see peculiar at you is the _lack_ of these things. Every woman has her charm, I am sure if you exert yourself a little more to appear presentable, you shall show me some remarkable trait. I cannot render you a futile case, can I? Your likeness to me is evident on some points, but it is a strange resemblance. You are a plain me, Miss Bennet.'

'I am sure you are right. I have other things to be pleased with, than my apparel.'

'Oh! But you must not give up on it. I see you have fine eyes and a good mouth. I am sure with a curl you would look quite pretty.'

'I trust your good eye on this…' she said ashamed.

'And I do think that my red dress shall suit you. Yes, my dear brother beckoned me to settle you a fine dress and that one shall do. The sleeves are very short, but the folds are exquisite. Mr. Russel adores me in the red dress and Morel saw me in the very dress I speak of. It is very becoming and will do. You would need to pull your hair up and some curls should fall down your shoulder, your nape must not be exposed.'

'Miss Stoddard, these…improvements to my look could not make up for my lack of skills…in conversation and…I cannot be as amiable as you are to young gentlemen, nor can I give them right justice or attract anyone through my manners which are intended to be…what they ought to be.'

'And what ought manners to be?' she inquired amused.

'They ought to be sensible.'

'And being amiable is not sensible? Come now, I see the country has affected your views and your family has perhaps brought you up in a stiffness worthy of abhorrence.'

'Not at all, not at all!'

'Nay, I can see right away that you see town as an extravagance, I can read that well in your countenance, but all respectable gentlemen go to town and all respectable females try to please them, for attachment and connection with such men is always gratifying and likely to advance them in status.'

'Yet, this is more about persuading Mr. Morel to consider me a lady willing to walk to his rooms. Is not that a great offence to a lady?'

'Offence! Do not imagine his rooms or any man's rooms as something as oddly perverse as you suppose. There is almost honour in being invited to have dinner with the man, but not with Morel, I dare say, he's quite insufferable. Though, a handsome gentleman, he has no respect for prior affection and he irks me beyond reason. But think, Miss Bennet, you are not doing this to satisfy him or his wishes, you are doing this to save my poor brother and I from a worse fate.'

Not being able to make clear to her, her wants of disposition and manners of attraction, she remained silent and vexed with herself and the young lady before her.

She could not master the fan as Margaret would have wished, nor could she walk without humbly lowering her eyes. Her manners of speech were sober and detached, the warmth was there, but it was warmth of sincerity, not interest.

However, her quick tongue was in her favour and Margaret established she would be considered entertaining, a thing which only added to her offended pride.

On the third day, Mr. Prowler confessed to her the help he had in the Gardiner household and it did not come as a surprise to her that Anita would be the one to secure her quick escape from Sir Nordstrom's Ball. She would arrange her dress and fix her hair and looking on the whole, Mary found Margaret's help completely futile since Anita would be the only one useful with the only thing she could attempt deceit.

She saw the course of the last three days as such a waste as to be felt immensely on her behalf, for she had not engaged in anything useful.

The acquaintance with Margaret Stoddard had been of the kind to disappoint her deeply, for she had expected someone as good-natured as her brother, who, albeit not the most respectable gentleman, was infinitely her superior in taste and character.

This disappointment, however, would be twice inflicted in a manner so cruel that upon being witness to it she thought it must be a jest.

On the day of the expected Balls, one for Sir Thomas, the other for Morel, she had not been called to Margaret, for it was necessary to prepare in dress and hair. Yet, on that very day, Mary was considerably agitated and wished nothing but to go back home, to Longbourn.

At three o' clock in the afternoon, she decided she could no longer keep the appearance of composed manner and she needed to be done with it.

The red dress on her bed mortified her, Anita's calls through the house made her soul wretched and her own easy acceptance into this trickery made her disgusted.

Mary proceeded to ask her uncle for a walk outside since she was quite out of spirits and Mr. Gardiner, suspecting she was nervous on account of the Ball, agreed to let her have his carriage to ride.

The coachman was liberal enough a man to nod carelessly at her pleading him to take her to the lower grounds of London to visit Margaret. She had no fortitude to see Mr. Prowler, her plan was to confess to brother and sister that she was not apt to it.

How bitter her surprise was when she did reach the street! For, not only did she see Margaret Stoddard next to a shop, dressed in a very pretty gown, with a large brimmed hat hiding her hair, but she was also sprinting happily with a gentleman at her side who she supposed was Mr. Russel. The man seemed to be very fond of her and would kiss her hand tenderly from time to time, at which point she would laugh.

Mary held her head back in the carriage and forced herself to remain calm and breathe, for it would not do to lose patience now.

_Margaret Stoddard had been well all along._

It was the first thought that came to mind, but then hundred others followed, more wicked and terrible. Had she been well since the beginning? Had she recovered in a single day to such extent that she could not just get out of bed, but also laugh cheerfully while walking animated with a man by her side?

It couldn't be another way, for yesterday, Margaret had feigned the impossibility of even too much speech.

It was all a foolery! It must have been and she felt the pain and shame for it.

Theodore's sister chose her illness at a right time when she saw herself in danger of being made to smile flirtatiously at Mr. Morel and it was no wonder she did so, to save herself from much trouble.

However, to lead on family and friends and herself! She who had to do it for her! Margaret was content to let someone carry the burden, as long as she was safe from it.

Upon thinking this, Mary considered how awful it would be for Georgiana to be connected with the sister of this man, who proclaimed such love for her. The match she had doubted from the beginning, but now considered it entirely fraught with danger.

With her throat dry, she ordered the coachman to turn back. She wished to go home, her ride was over.

* * *

As the afternoon turned into evening, Mrs. Gardiner urged Mary to get ready to leave for the Nordstrom residence and was quite scandalized upon seeing it was six in the evening and Mary was looking for Anita, of all people.

'I shall call her, my dear, if you need help dressing, but I entreat you to make haste! We cannot be late, you know, her ladyship demands our acting accordingly, for she was most civil when she paid us a visit. But there's no need to rush too much, make yourself very pretty my dear. I am sure Mr. Toddler will be very happy to see you, he has not talked to you in a long while and he would have many to tell you. Make haste, but make haste slowly as the Romans would say.'

During such speech Anita was found and Miss Bennet was suffered to go dress with utmost care and promptness. The red gown was a good fit and upon examining herself in the looking glass Mary admitted her figure improved considerably, but her bosom seemed too naked, her entire soul seemed exposed, the short sleeves made her arms shiver and she could not repress the disgust she felt at remembering what she had seen earlier.

Her hair had been curled a night earlier but it had turned quite straight once more and only some ringlets remained around her shoulders.

Anita, however, had foreseen Miss Bennet's plain hair would be best hidden, thus she proceeded to pull it up with a ribbon and let the ringlets fall free around her.

Mary looked at herself with a smile, she looked quite pretty, but this smile faded when she recalled everything and her mind darkened. Her appearance was something to be guessed at…her prettiness was brought out by the fine eyes and good mouth Margaret had singled out.

'Missus is looking lovely. Quite so…I'll be attending ye, ye need but call,' Anita said smiling.

Mary wanted to question more, but was rushed out of the room at the calls of her aunt and uncle and made to put on her shawl and coat so there could be a proper departure. Anita was taken with them, as Mary expected, for Lady Nordstrom had complained about the lack of help in the kitchen and the Gardiners had offered to provide her with their own maid for the event.

As the carriage left their house, she felt like she always did when she had to attend a Ball. Wretched. But now, from more reasons than could be counted.

The clock chimed eight when they arrived at Lady Isabel's tall, bleak white house, shadowed by many apple trees and a coarse drive with a cobbled path. Every window was lit and it gave the house an even more sinister look. Inside, people were talking, but not many could laugh or even chuckle, for Lady Nordstrom expected a check of manner from everyone and most were too shy to jest.

They were welcomed with the same coldness and politeness as all the other dozen families which had entered through the large black doors into the Ball Room and the only person who seemed in high spirits was Sir Thomas himself who feigned complete surprise at the feast.

'Upon my word! I hadn't the faintest idea! I was sure Lady Nordstrom would not like it, for she had such trouble two years ago with her health during the Ball that I never truly forgave myself. But I had not even thought! Oh, she is very selfless, she thought nothing of her trouble.'

Mary's entrance in the room after having disposed of her coat and shawl made quite an impression. Her looks, though by no means gratuitous, had something ostentatious but charming about them.

Mrs. Gardiner was very much surprised to see her niece so good looking, but her uncle, who noticed very little in women in general, only nodded pleased and remarked she would be asked two dances or more.

That was the last thing on her mind, as Mary Bennet only wanted to sit down and hide from everyone's stares and comments.

In very little time, she was noticed by Mr. Toddler, who, having recovered his health and spirits, wanted to be grand tonight and offer her four dances, a thing which he never did.

He came by her side immediately and introduced himself as if she had not seen him before. He expressed his compliments politely, adding that he hadn't seen such charms before at such a modest lady.

She wanted him gone from her sight with such repulse, but it was not because she detested his manners, she was in no mood to entertain him.

When the clock chimed ten she knew Anita would call on her and bid her come in the parlour, after which she would be sent through the back door of the kitchen where Mr. Prowler would be waiting.

Her disappearance would be accounted by Anita, who would insist the young lady had been feeling very low and needed rest, for which reason she had called a cab for her and had accompanied her to Southwark Street where she left her to rest. If the Gardiners asked why their carriage was not used, she would have enough good words to calm them in that respect also, bringing up the waste, the long journey back, the advantage of being taken home easier and without trouble to them.

She looked at the grandfather clock in the cards room from time to time and dreaded its moving hands.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Sorrow part 1

'I b-believe your dress has i-impressed Lady Isabel herself, for, she t-told me when we were… congratulating Sir Nordstrom how h-highly remarkable the design of the gown was, though s-slightly too much for her wishes.'

Mr. Toddler was placed firmly across her seat and try as she might, Mary could find no escape from his dry attempts at over-friendly conversation.

He was bent upon servicing her with his best compliments, though those half-uttered and badly expressed. Mary did not give any credit to Lady Nordstrom's actual approval of the dress, for she had seen some deep lines on her forehead whenever the lady had looked at her. But, let it not be considered that those lines were formed from disgust at the impropriety of the attire for the occasion. No, it was more likely that Lady Isabel was jealous that Mary could attract so much attention with such feeble looks.

The large party and the boisterous guests made Mary feel very uneasy after an hour of having to stand Mr. Toddler's unpolished manners, as well.

He was talking incessantly of his new employment, something which himself and Lady Nordstrom had come up with. The lady had many country dogs at her estate in Dorset and she had, for some time, thought of making use of them by selling them at a reasonable price. They were well-bred dogs, of high pedigree and touching beauty, thus she hoped Mr. Toddler could assist her in finding rightful owners for them.

When Mary, out of politeness, asked why this task was undertaken by him and why the dogs were no longer necessary at the estate, he immediately offered to explain in most courteous words dedicated to Lady Nordstrom that she had decided to turn her house in a shelter for the impecunious people in the country. He was the right man to deal with this since his prolonged experience with affairs of money was famed.

Mary could not help thinking this was not just a noble plan on behalf of the lady and only later did she discover the house would not serve to be the residence of actual destitute people, but of an honourable yet very modest family, whose patriarch was the parson of the village. The Lady would claim rent and Mr. Toddler did not shy away from indicating the sum which was quite alarming and would be alarming even to the Bennets.

She would have given Mr. Toddler looks of deep disapproval for trying to pass this as charity, but the mention of a parson brought dear memories of reverend Abbot and fresh tears threatened to wet her face, were it not for the sudden appearance of Anita close to her chairs, whispering something in her ear.

Mary grew suddenly paler and even Mr. Toddler looked at her with concern, but she excused herself hastily, rising from her chair and producing some feeble excuse of being quite ill and meaning to go home.

'M-Miss Bennet, let me then t-take you with my own phaeton…' he instantly offered, but she was gone before he could utter the invitation, for one could lose oneself easily in the bustle of the room.

Anita, Mary soon discovered, was quite useful when she was not making cheeky observations or giving not so benign a smile to those she thought superior only in fortune. Her wily way of passing through the crowd and guiding Mary in such a way as not to be seen was explanatory. She was probably used to such subterfuges.

Mary soon found herself in the servants' quarter which was comprised of several white-door rooms, whence burst young girls in fresh aprons, looking like doves, scared away by some great hawk and indeed, the hawk was a very strict butler, who ran up and down the corridor, casting side-long glances and sneering at any ruffled waistcoat. This quarter was so large and so impressive and continued into other small laundrettes and latrines, that Mary was sure that her own, modest home could not compare.

After some toil they found the larders which opened to the kitchens which led very conveniently to the door of the back garden. Many a scullery maid stopped to stare at this scandalous appearance of a young lady, so elegantly dressed, so well looking, being cast away, out the back door, like a common thief.

When Mary and Anita shut the door behind them and stepped out into the cool breeze of a spring night, the former could rest her eye upon some lovely shrubs of honeysuckles and cast a glance towards the moon above, which, though not full or wistful, gave enough beams for them to cross the path to the wicket safely.

When out in the street, Mary's attention was arrested by a figure coming out from safe darkness, conjuring its substance out of thin air. His cloak billowed behind him in a fastidious way, his look was active, his nostrils dilated, his eyes stormy. He was not running, but his figure alluded to some exertions on his part to get there fast enough.

When she turned, she noticed Anita was no longer by her side. If this were indeed a work by Sir Scott, perhaps the maiden, gathering a young man was approaching, would leave her mistress some intimacy and withdraw in her humble abode to weep over her mother's picture or sigh for her own cavalier.

This clearly not being the case, Anita had simply hidden herself in the back garden, not wishing the conversation that would take place to be stifled by her presence, thus depriving her of fresh and entertaining gossip.

Everyone can guess that the hasty arrival was that of James Prowler, beseeching not a lovely maiden to come have a walk with him down the path of roses, but to conquer that lady's pride and make her bend under his rule. The recompense for her assistance would be great, for he had already settled in his mind that Mary Bennet was like a lioness, capable of many and charming in her own way, accomplished enough to make him blithe.

Happy and perverse thoughts he cherished in his mind as he approached the waiting figure in the shining red gown, but many of these thoughts were dispersed upon seeing her in her true form, just five feet away.

Mary looked at him warily and fidgeted with the folds of her dress as she shuddered involuntarily from the cold. He stepped up, bowed solemnly and took off his hat, but his gaze was arrested upon her figure and, though Mary was blushing most conspicuously, he would not tear his gaze away.

James stood for a good three minutes doing nothing but observing and admiring. He had in front of him a young woman whom he had never seen in such light as tonight, in such vigorous looks, in such healthy blush, in such rounded perfection. Perfection here meant Mary Bennet had achieved the impossibility of being quite pretty.

However, to him she was not beautiful, she could not be and therein lay the sorrow. He was enchanted, in raptures, but not entirely captivated as not to notice her obvious pain. Perhaps this was better, for after those three minutes, he decided to act and he cleared his throat loudly.

Finding words on such occasions was no easy task and he held his own hat undecided.

'I see Anita has followed my instructions as I demanded of her,' he said at length.

His voice was very warm and agitated, half-worried, half-nervous.

'Yes, she…she was of service,' Mary said confused. 'Sir, I meant to come here, but do not think that…'

'I was worried you might change your mind, but come, let's have nothing of it, take my hand and I shall lead you to my carriage…' he started.

'No, Sir, I'm afraid…I'm afraid that cannot be done.'

He had already placed his firm hand on her shoulder and she drew back. He stood obfuscated.

'Mr. Prowler, look at me. What think you?' she suddenly asked.

'What think I? I cannot even begin to describe how lovely you appear! Margaret has done wonders with the dress,' was his not so checked reply. He had not intended to be so loud, but her bosom being lifted under her breath so close to him produced some effect on him.

'Then you see me as pretty?' she asked again looking sad.

'You have never looked better. The dress becomes you so well, Miss Bennet.'

'Does it? I rather thought I was unsuited to this…' she said pointing at her attire.

'Unsuited? No, I should think not. In fact, I see this is your true light, Miss Bennet. Grace you already possess, it shall do greatly.'

'You are mistaken, Sir…I have not grace…' she uttered stepping away again.

'Your modesty is endearing, but it comes at such times…I'd rather face your stirring vanity, in such moments, for we need to make haste Miss Bennet. Theodore is waiting for us in the Ball Room. Do me the honour of taking my hand and…' he trailed off, trying not to sound too impatient.

Mary looked up, slightly invigorated, enticed to reply.

'Your compliments are as manufactured as my looks and it appears to me this has been a terrible mistake,' she said coldly turning.

James stared at her alarmed and quickly pressed his hand over hers.

'Miss Bennet, I meant not to upset you, my admiration is always encumbered by some folly of my wit…but you are what you are and…'

'Yet this is not who I am, Sir. This is not me,' she said a tone louder, encompassing her figure with her hands.

'What, pray, do you mean?' he inquired, his grip not relenting, his eyes fixed on hers.

'I mean that you have fooled yourself and me in return! This is such a spectacle of drollness to you, is it not? But not I…I will not assist in this thoughtless scheme!'

'What…what speak you? You agreed to help my friend, you know on this may depend the happiness of your very friend, Miss Darcy!'

'Then let me be selfish, unkind, unjust, but not thoughtless and impudent!' she said angered.

'And you speak now? At such time? When Theodore is risking…'

'Theodore ought not have committed such things that can be taken advantage of now. He also, should have assisted his sister in establishing better principles of conduct,' she spoke pained.

'And you! You speak all this without heart, without compassion. I see, you recite once more the sacred words of some Wesleyan theory you have memorised from the books you profess to understand,' he replied harshly.

To such offence given to her _amour propre_ Mary could neither reply, but could neither submit. She wrenched her hand free and turned quickly to leave.

James was fast on her steps and since Mary Bennet could hardly take some exercise without tiring herself and dampening her spirits, her running was something to be looked upon with pity.

He would soon gain on her tracks it would seem, but fortune smiled upon this distraught lady, for her, if not staunch, at least, sensible maiden arrived to save her from the hands of an unwanted suitor. It was Anita indeed, who having proceeded out of the shrubberies was close at hand to aid Mary.

She quickly called Mr. Gardiner's coach driver to come and collect his master's niece and in doing so, opened the door for the young woman and quickly stepped in herself, as the vehicle scurried off, leaving behind a livid James Prowler.

A reasonable man as was Mr. Prowler would not lose his head in such conditions, even when his plans were turned to dust, when his case fell to shreds, when his friend was in peril. He did, however, stare dejectedly after the carriage, truly hit by the scorn he had shown and the coldness she had given in return. They were good friends, were they not? What had gone so wrong? This question dwelled in his mind as he retraced his steps.

* * *

Mary looked out the window into the night and did not even dare to turn and face Anita, who, considering the novelty of the situation, was sitting right next to her mistress. Servants were not to be seated so well, neither was Mary supposed to be so permissive, but at times like these, she could not even utter a word of gratitude to the person she thought was surely in the hands of the crafty lawyer.

She was relieved, she could not hide it and ashamed. But let the guilt of having disappointed Georgiana or Theodore subside, let her sense of propriety win, let her fear overcome her and felicitate her on such firm refusal.

She would suffer now a little more and be done with for ever. How selfish this sounded to her, yet her conscience was a mistress herself, who did not like to be corrected.

Weary and sad she arrived home and was taken by Anita to her chamber. She guessed the maid would turn and leave, but she drew two chairs and sat herself across Mary with such courage that surprised her even in this state.

'I must admit, I don't think of ye greatly, missus.'

Mary only stared.

'I think ye are not truthful to yourself… but ye are good enough to see evil.'

Mary decided she needed to speak, at least to reinstate her authority.

'Such opinions you cherish are not my concern, Anita. I can only be grateful to you for your kind assistance…though I am somewhat surprised you allied with me,' she said hastily.

The last words made the maid smile mischievously.

'Ye are a woman, missus. We fend fer ourselves…'

'We might, but men have great powers over our minds sometimes, that make us forget our duties.'

Anita cast her a glance that seemed to say "It might have happened to ye, missus" but Mary decidedly ignored it and went on.

'Nevertheless, I suppose you expect something in return…'

'Ye might be surprised, but methinks ye did what was best, missus,' Anita continued pensively. 'Ye do not wish to mingle with Morel and his people…nasty sort.'

'I suppose you know…'

'Aye. Who doesn't? But missus said I'd like something in return. I would.'

Mary nodded annoyed, but upon seeing that perverse smile on Anita's lips again, she remembered her burning curiosity as to who her grim lover in the alley had been. Seizing this opportunity when they were both alone to inquire, she paused and spoke.

'Anita, I know you are having an affair with someone.'

She looked at her disconcerted and folded her hands over her chest. 'What do ye mean, missus?'

'I've seen you with a man…' she said bowing her head in shame, though she should have been the one holding it up.

'Oh! I see now…I see…' Anita mumbled embarrassed, though her arched brow did not relent.

'Was…was he one that you loved?'

'I love no one in that manner, missus.'

'I see…then he was someone you entertained yourself with.'

'Do ye wish to hear, missus? What it's all about?' Anita asked defiantly, crossing her legs.

Mary looked at her sternly and nodded.

'Very well then… I have only someone in the warld…to care for me. His name is Monsieur Reuteil. He is French. Old sort. He is now five and sixty, aye. I was found half-dead one night, twenty years ago, near the river. He picked me up, I was a mere babe…and he took me to his droppin' cottage, very humble. And he took care of me alone. And now he's ill…very ill. The money I get servin' for Mrs. Gardiner never is enough for his draughts. One night, when I was serving dinner, Mr. Toddler came to us the first time and he pursued me. Aye, don't look so surprised! He is a milksop! Wretched, worthless man I say…and he bid me have him for a price. The money was more than enough for Monsieur…I accepted. Ye see, I am no good at nothing and I can't let him die.'

This faulty and coarsely narrated tale Mary heard with her mouth agape. The incredible truth struck her with such power that rendered her speechless. The vivid image of the man harassing Anita in that alley came to mind and perceiving it was Mr. Toddler, the puny man with a stuttering habit, the shy, insipid, unimaginative gentleman, Lady Nordstrom's pet, she shrank in disgust.

To have considered him decent and honourable! To have encouraged his friendship!

However, she restrained herself. Anita could perhaps lie, could perhaps evade the exact facts and impress on her the tragedy of her fate, yet her looks were so firm and so convincing that she could not doubt. Her trembling shoulder as she faced Mary, her dropped mouth spoke some pain.

'Is…is all this true, Anita?'

'As true as the fact that I care for Monsieur.'

'I cannot believe it…it must be some mistake,' Mary muttered dejected. To have so many blows in one night was quite something to her temper.

'No mistake, missus.'

'How long has this been going?' she asked.

'Some months…I've lost count, missus. Don't be angry, I'm more wretched.'

Mary rose from her seat and started to pace the room anxiously.

'What more is there?' she asked cautiously.

Anita bowed her head in true remorse and sighed. She placed her hands across her belly, trembling again.

''You are with child!' Mary exclaimed horrified. 'It cannot be!'

'Aye…aye…missus,' she said nodding ashamed.

'Anita! How…how…terrible, but this must be brought to light to my uncle…'

'No! I beg you missus, do not ruin me!' she implored looking up alarmed.

'There is no other better solution, for you are to be a mother!'

'There is missus! There is, I entreat you!'

'And what of it?'

'I...I know an ol' woman, missus. She's good with plants, she's a healer. She concocts drinks that cure you of any pain. She knows what I got to take to…to get rid of this,' she said blushing.

'An old woman! You make her sound like a sorceress! What kind of herb can she give you in such case?'

'I can't know, missus, but it's my last hope. I wanted to ask ye to lend me some money to give the woman. I haven't at this time…'

Mary shook her head upset, brushing some curls out of her face. Her mind was telling her to take care with such foils and warned her it might be all a trick. Yet, could she look at Anita's dropping figure and pleading eyes and not hesitate? Surely, it was strange. She had refused to aid Theodore, but she was considering attending to this poor maid, who had scorned her in the past.

'Missus, I am wrong. The ol' woman isn't my only hope. Ye are,' Anita said. 'She is very good with girls like I…she'll know. I only need the money.'

Mary sighed in frustration. Something inside her stirred and she presently went to her bedside table and drew out her portmanteau whence she extracted seven pounds. It was more than generous.

'Oh, oh thank ye, missus! God bless ye!' she exclaimed, taking the money with such reverence and bowing so low that Mary thought she would kiss her hand.

Anita's eyes skipped for joy as she held the pounds to her heart, treasuring them with all her might.

'Be sure, ye shan't regret it, missus!'


	26. Chapter 26

_**I cannot begin to apologise for the delay but I hope no one has given up on the story and that most of you will still keep reading it. I didn't have Internet for quite a while and when the problem was fixed I had to deal with a lot of schoolwork but I managed in these breaks to write a new chapter. Again, sorry for the pause and the shortness of this chapter. Have a nice reading. **_

Chapter 26: Sorrow part 2

While the transaction aforementioned was transpiring in Mary's chamber, what can one suppose was happening to the misguided and unfortunate Theodore?

Out of all the fervent characters that had ejaculated their feelings and thoughts that evening to confuse us and make us forget, there remained yet Theodore, who was now truly alone and helpless.

Where was he to be found? Why, no more, no less than in the merry, riotous crowd gathered at Morel's house for the grand feast. People from all walks of life had joined the different parties there in hope of finding good wine and some pitiful pounds which were bound to be thrown around by Morel's "generosity". The gentleman was sitting in a corner, entertaining himself with two sisters of suspicious origins and a young bloke of merely twenty that was famed for smoking ten cigars a day. Morel looked ready for a diagnosis of consumption, poor soul, but the ladies were swarming around him.

Morel looked grand in his father's old suit that was trimmed and opulent for the occasion. He wore two rings on each baby finger and had specked his dark hair with a sort of oil that appeared so greasy as to make it unbearable to look at. His round belly overflowed his somewhat shabby waistcoat and he felt dreadfully aware of it. However, one of the sisters who lay gently in his arms had the "propriety" of saying gaily how fine it was that he was so gentle and soft so she could rest her elbows on his overflowing belly.

In his half-drunken state that was a pleasing compliment. But Mr. Morel was highly displeased, actually. He was getting a bit anxious and impatient. His most important lady was supposed to come, why hadn't she arrived yet? Where, indeed, was Margaret Stoddard? She was quite late, not even rightfully late and this entire business was getting tedious for him. He worried soon he would be so drunk as to forget to show the poor creature to his rooms.

He knew he had seen her brother somewhere in the crowd, but had lost track of it; he saw so many new faces, it was impossible to recognise even a quarter of them. Those he did recognise he would salute impudently with one finger raised in the air, as if warning them to take care of what they did.

And did he know, Mr. Morel, that he was being so intensely watched? Theodore kept his eyes on him firmly, watching his every move, but keeping well out of his sight. He was worried, more so upon noticing that not even James had arrived.

As he sat down at one of the window sills the thought that Mary had changed her mind struck him. If so, he was doomed, irreversibly doomed, since he saw no way out of it, but since this thought had come so quickly, its impact was not big enough to render him completely desperate. He took a deep breath and looked around licking his lips. There was food and he was hungry, there was wine and he would have liked better to be drunk, there was cheap love at every corner in the form of some young jilted lady. He could go all the way and damn it all, curse his love for Georgiana, mar his chances of becoming respectable and going back to being vile.

He did think she was far too good for him and that he could perhaps never see her in a rocking chair by the fire throwing him lovingly looks, as he dreamt she would, one day. She wouldn't for he did not deserve her, no matter what he would do. Wasn't it easier to give it all up and blame it all on fate?

It was, it always was, but somehow, no matter how much he felt desolate at the moment, he couldn't muster the scoundrel in him to surface once more, he could not go back to what he had before. For what was it? What was before? Some pennies, some brandy, some meatpies, some lasses? Now he had her! He had her love, he had won her single-handedly, the greatest treasure he could have had! Such an achievement! He would not throw away her gentle love and he would not throw away his.

No, he resolutely walked towards the exit to look one more time for Mary and James. Only the wind blew there, a draught that warned him he would have no support.

Pleased with that report, he went back inside and attempted to get around the house; his goal was to find Morel's study.

As fortune would deem it, he noticed Morel had left his spot and was walking out of the room. He hoped he would retire to his study as a respectable gentleman, though that was highly unlikely. Nevertheless, he went in pursuit of this allegedly horrible man, only to find that the rumours were true; he was despicably cunning, for in a minute, Morel turned again from the door and walked back into the Ball room.

Now he could see Theodore who had come out to follow him, but being ever so in spirits, he could barely make out something to say, other than mutter something about Margaret and her impudent tardiness.

Theodore was panic-stricken but his heart did not fail him and he quickly made his way back into the crowd, hoping that his white face was not too conspicuous. It was now Morel who was following Theodore and the latter, in his excitement, not only knocked a tray full of scones, but also dashed right out of the room after such a blatant mischief.

Morel's house was not grand but it was a remarkable labyrinth with only one way out, the front door, a shameful retreat. Theodore walked through rooms and saloons, not knowing where to turn next. He ran through halls and chambers and eventually found a small room to his liking into which he found refuge at last.

It was, to his mind, a very small and modest drawing room which was more than unlikely for Morel. There was an old pianoforte in a corner with one broken leg, a heavy squat desk, several shelves full of china and porcelains that reeked of bad taste and in one corner a very large urn that had written on it James T. Morel, probably a relative of Morel's.

The wallpaper was crumbling off and the bare walls had many stains on them, some of wine, some of stake. It was a disgusting place that made his stomach turn but it was the last place Morel would look in.

He found an old footstool and sat down drearily, exhausted from the tension the evening had produced. He would do with a cup of tea right about now, but the only thing he could drink was the insipid air around him. As Theodore sat there, contemplating the small specks of dust that were falling carelessly on his lapels, some strange sounds erupted outside, laughter and boisterous banter, both of which distressed him terribly.

As the noises came closer he feared the feasters might want to step inside for who knows what debauchery and without thinking he tried to find a hiding place.

Indeed, his old senses had not tricked him; a young couple, formed of an eighteen year old young man, a student of Economy and a thirty two year old courtesan, mother of five, burst into the room in hideous clamour. The dame was holding a plate full of cake and the young man held the wine.

'To what shall I compare thee?' the young man mocked her kissing her free hand. She laughed harder and tried to run from him, as if playing a game of her own.

'Compare me to a mad banshee if you like!' she giggled rudely bumping against the shelves. She threw her shawl on the carpet and the young man started kissing her neck.

Crumbles of cake were falling on the floor.

Meanwhile, our unfortunate hero had found some hiding place in the nick of time, behind the massive urn in the corner and was waiting patiently for a good moment to leave the room unnoticed.

Somehow, Lady Fortuna was on his side that night, for right before the fervent young man tried to run his hand through her flaxen hair, she pulled back smiling daringly and lifted her palm up.

'I know how you pretty blue-eyed ones go. You all say it's just one time and you want to try it, that you all have fair ladies at home to whom you are engaged and so forth…how sickly…how puny of you! And while I give you spasms you all scream their names, how rude! Well, no, no, not that trick again…so darling, early payment please.'

The young man looked at her confused, his drunken state not allowing for any reasonable thoughts.

'Oh, I have to coax it out of you! Cough up, darling, cough up!'

He smiled innocently and lifted his bottle of wine as a sign that he had no penny whatsoever on him and wouldn't have any until his generous father sent him some for his yearly tuition. Just to be sure she was not prevaricated she started searching him herself, hands in his pockets, like a collier's wife asking her spouse for some weekly share off his drinking.

'You really have no ounce! You coxcomb! I ought to slap you, but I shan't since you are so darling and young and were fed only with milk and rice, but stay out of my way! Out of my way, you're wasting my time!' she said angrily, rushing out of the room, leaving her already stolen shawl behind.

The young man saluted her politely and when he saw she was off, he sat down near the shelves and fell asleep, with pieces of cake near his head.

Theodore had ogled at them all throughout the scene and it had reminded him of his old days so much that a new wave of determination had marked him as a decided hero.

He got up quietly and made to leave the room silently, but a sudden cough from the young man scared him so much that he pushed against the urn recklessly and the old thing fell down with a heavy but not crashing thump since a very solid carpet lay on the floor, moth-eaten, like everything else there.

A great load of cinder flew down its mouth onto the floor, too much so for only one deceased person and Theodore felt strangely drawn to that grey mass. He went over to examine it properly and tried to clear off some of the cinder with his foot.

Lady Fortuna marched in again as he suddenly discovered something gleaming white in all that greyness and when he bent down to inspect it, he found it to be a wad of documents. He picked it up carefully and brushed the dirt away, opening it hesitatingly.

He couldn't believe his eyes, but the reader might. He held in his hands the real ownership papers of the Bartley House in South London, owned by Mr. Darcy, the documents which were supposedly hidden so well by Morel and in which Mr. Darcy had placed many of his hopes.

In his joy he almost woke up the young man who had only stirred at the sound of the urn falling. Theodore was beaming and he hastily placed the documents inside his waistcoat.

_Ah, the milksop, hiding __them here! But it was no match for my skill! _he thought blithely and exited the room in the utmost care. As he traversed the long corridor a new thought perched up in his mind.

_What if someone steals the documents? No, the waistcoat is not a safe place._

He took his top hat and stashed the documents inside the hem of the chapeau, feeling more secure and we can affirm it was a clever move on his part, for barely had he turned the corner when a tall and stocky steward suddenly seized him as a voice reverberated in his ears.

'There he is, the little meddler! Theodore Stoddard!' shouted Morel.

* * *

Morning came too soon for Mary Bennet who had got to bed in a miserable state and was now waking to more wretchedness that was sure to come from her uncle and aunt, both curious about her disappearance the previous night.

She was in no mood to reply to either of them, but luckily, her now staunch chamber maid, Anita had managed to produce some form of excuse for her, saying that she was terribly ill, a common cold only a lot nastier and that last night she had rushed home, in her embarrassment to avoid being seen in such a state.

'Without saying goodbye, without paying her respects to Lady Isabel? How peculiar! She should have taken care! I knew she should have worn her shawl!' Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed. However, she only bothered to fetch the physician, she was a terrible nurse to all those who were bedridden.

The physician was quite alarmed upon seeing how discomfit and nervous Mary was, a great fever had overcome her and her thoughts were in a muddle, all about the events of the previous night and a terrible fear of having to face the consequences of it.

On the one hand, she was reminded of luckless Theodore and her abandoning him. His destiny and the outcome of the evening were all unknown to her. On the other hand there was Mr. Prowler, who would naturally call on her again and torture her more. She would avoid him, but how?

Chiefly, she worried her mind sick over the ethicality of her actions; whether having produced such misfortune to that young man and consequently to Georgiana had been the best of choices. She decided she had been selfish, but her selfishness had only gone so far as to preserve her principles. She was not the kind of human being to tramp over all her beliefs and she was not what a dress could make her or what others might see in her. Mary knew she wasn't charming and bold enough to even appear like a fashionable lady, so her attempt to do so made her feel more wretched. She wondered whether she had tried it all to escape her sense of plainness. If so, she needed to remind herself that plainness can only reside in the mind.

From time to time she felt angry remembering Margaret and her misleading character. There she could compare the apparel of that seemingly genteel lady and her true worth when it came to principle of mind. But this was no excuse for her own behaviour, she knew well, she was only clinging to something to put her conscience at rest, at least for a while.

London had obviously been a bad idea, she saw that now. Her place was in the country-side, with her father and her quiet books. It was not because she thought herself a peasant that she considered so; it was more because Mary could clearly judge now the difference between town folk and country folk and she decidedly raised the latter in esteem and propriety. Her sole wish now was to go home and sleep safely in her little bed, wake up and see the marshes and meadows all gleaming in a red dusk.

Little did she know she would have her wish of parting with London granted, but, unfortunately for her, home would not be her destination.

On that very day, a letter arrived for her from Mr. Collins. The contents of it I shall reveal in the following lines.

_Dear Miss Bennet,_

_I am writing to you since the situation calls for it, else I would not dare disturb you from your enjoyments of London, though I dare say it is an inopportune place you find yourself at. The news I give might make you feel the shame of having amusement while your father is terribly ill._

_But there! I've said it before I intended to, so I may go on, I may well finish. _

_I heard Miss Bennet, that you approved of your elderly father driving alone on such rainy weather to Rosings for a visit to my abode that was most unsuited since I have recently become a vicar, a position given to me by Lady Catherine upon hearing Charlotte is with child and I am up to my eyes in work. _

_I must declare that your conduct was not at all recommending and you showed no care for your parent, not to mention you did not consider advising him that the visit was obviously something fruitless at the moment since in no case can I lend him any amount of money at the time. _

_He is, as I have said, quite ill, bedridden I am afraid, but Charlotte is taking care of him in one of our new rooms, since I managed to expand the house like I had planned, though I did not envisage on its usage being given to your father. However, we are of course happy to help as we've already done as much as we could. This damnable weather has made postal service incredibly slow so that I could only write to your mother several days after Mr. Bennet was declared ill. _

_When I did however, she had no notion that her husband would be visiting us, nor did she know anything about his leaving London. Once again, I am inclined to believe Miss Bennet that you have concealed such facts and have misled your own poor mother, not to mention put us all at ill ease. I cannot guess at the scheme at hand, but let me say that such follies of character are not acceptable and whether this is a secret of yours, or a fancifulness of age, you'd better revise your conduct and pay heed to my words, as a pastor of the community. My dear Charlotte is a charming creature trying to excuse your misbehaviour and insisting that you would have never lied with such purposes, but I know that females tend to fend for each other, which is admirable when there is __**true**__ injustice done to them. _

_Under these circumstances, I advise that you come to Rosings at once to attend to your father, who is in need of all the possible care and attention. My wife is with child and cannot aid to him alone. Your mother arrived two days ago and Mrs. Jane Bingley came as well to see him. Mrs. Darcy will be arriving promptly as well, but I know nothing of your other sister Catherine or that unfortunate young girl Mrs. Wickham. Needless to say, Mrs. Bennet is appalled at your behaviour and demands serious explanations, but that will all come to pass when you manage to come._

_Charlotte and I hope Mr. Bennet will be moved to the Bingley estate, where he will be much more comfortable and safe. Such discussions have taken place as of late and it seems in a week or so, or even earlier, the move shall transpire. _

_And here I end my epistle hoping that some of my words have perhaps pierced your heart, young lady and have rendered you pensive and guilty. I have met many an impetuous young woman like yourself, but with good guidance they all come to the right path. Pray and I shall pray too. _

_Respects, Mr. Collins. _

What could be said of Mary's feelings after having read such an accusatory letter? In those moments she earnestly believed that Mr. Collins was right to make her the sole cause of all the misfortunes that transpired while her father had been gone.

She was double the foe now and her folly she exaggerated incredibly, forgetting that it had been her father who had insisted on her secrecy.

Her father was ill and it came at a time when she needed him the most; perhaps this was her punishment for having dared to be anyone but herself.

Her fever was too big for her to think rationally and she fancied he might die all because of her. She should have kept him by her side, no matter what. Those rainy days, oh how they were cold and how her father suffered!

There was one thought that persisted in her head. She must get up and get packed and take a chaise to Rosings immediately to stand day and night by her father's side.

She grimaced at the thought of her mother being "appalled" but she would ignore that; she needed to leave London as soon as possible.

That evening Anita came to see her bringing her medicine. The petite girl sat at her bedside looking worried in her eyes.

'Is missus getting better?'

'Yes…yes, I am recovering,' Mary said drinking her tea. 'Soon I shall be gone Anita.'

'Gone to where, missus?'

'To my father, to take care of him.'

'Ye mean ye'll leave London fer good?'

'Yes, I am afraid I shall.'

'Why must ye?'

'My father needs me. I have not been a good daughter, I must make up for it.'

'Wha' bout Mr. Prowler?'

'What about him?' Mary said frowning.

'Will ye tell him ye're leavin' ?

'I won't, he'll find out, but if you happen to talk to him tell him…'

'Yes?'

'Tell him I'm sorry I caused him misfortune and that I do not wish to part like enemies.'

'Is that all, missus?' Anita asked hoping for more.

'Yes, quite so…Anita, please write to me.'

'Me? Write?' she asked bewildered.

'Yes, I'd like you to tell me if you hear from a Mr. Theodore Stoddard…Mr. Prowler might inform you…please write to me of it and please let me know if the money I gave you was of any service and if you manage…'

'Oh, I shall missus, I shall! Aye, ye'll hear from me, though I write no pretty hand!'

'It's not needed, no indeed, not now…'


	27. Chapter 27

_**It's quite a while since I last updated and I am terribly sorry for that. The Holidays were full of demanding relatives and visits to uncles and aunts I didn't even know I had. Probably a scenario that repeats itself in every family. Then school started being a prick more than usual. Finally, I managed to find time and inspiration to write. Hope you enjoy and I promise the next chapter will be longer. **_

_**p.s. Thanks Annie for your kind review (anonymous review).  
**_

Chapter 27: The Road Not Taken

It was with great affliction and concern that the Gardiners saw Mary to her carriage the next morning. Her luggage was wrapped with brown paper in large crates, along with some gifts from her uncle and her purchased books. It was a dull day, with very little sunshine and large, yellow clouds that were belated in their pouring down with heavenly rain.

She had not the chance to say many goodbyes to Anita, not to mention find the whereabouts of unfortunate Theodore. Her mind was now set on reaching Rosings and attending to her father's bed day and night. Much to her dismay however, constant thoughts of the past days came in and out, with recurring images of Theodore, Margaret and surely Mr. Prowler.

The latter she considered deserved no honoured pity, putting a prodigal blame on him for most of the piteous events. A woman however of her age, with or without prejudices, will inadvertently excuse some of the errs of a young gentleman she had seen in a favourable light until then, not only because her heart ruled more than her mind, but also because her own pride found more comfort.

'My dear, do pay our best wishes to your poor father. I can only imagine what sorrow my sister has in her heart,' Mr. Gardiner said affected.

'Moreover, if you could write to us from time to time and tell us of his progress we would be at rest,' his wife added. 'Wear a woollen bonnet, my dear. The fog shall set in, in the evening and if it does not rain it shall still be frightfully wet.'

Mary bid her goodbyes and kissed both uncle and aunt before stepping in the carriage and giving London a last aggrieved look.

* * *

In our days, the gaol is no longer a disgraceful place. What man does not know that some of the sincerest and purest hearts lie in the humid, putrid air of a filthy cell?

No, the gaol only remains a dirty, inhabitable, hopeless institution. Shame is not to be associated with it.

Theodore Stoddard was one of the current guests of this loom house, all due to the foul and disgraced Morel, who upon seizing him in his own house, made no waste of time until he had him locked up. Their contract had been broken, now his fury would have no limits, for no one toys with Morel and escapes unscathed.

Our newly found hero was trapped in a place where no one heard his calls, no one listened to his pleas, no one lent him a hand. He was considered just as much a villain as a demented man who slew children on the street.

He was to stand on trial soon, but that was a mere formality, Morel's brother seeking only to humiliate him, he guessed.

James had been made aware of his incarceration and had fled desperately to his friend, but by then it was perhaps too late, far too late. The crafty lawyer had no craft, now that his plan had gone to dust. Any form of apology to Theodore would not do.

He had disappointed a friend. However, the good-natured Theodore had not held it up against him. In a peculiar way he felt like he had known James could never have truly helped him on this quest.

He received him with hope, which hope was fuelled by the necklace which bore Georgiana's likeness and his love for her.

'My dear friend, times are upon us. I fear that now God has finally seen to punish me for all that I've done…now, in my bloom! When I finally feel I can redeem. It was predictable one day this would happen. But it is nonsense to dwell on it. I must atone.'

'Theodore, it is not you who must bear this sacrifice, but the scoundrel of Morel, who has deceived and destroyed so many before you.'

'It is no point comparing. I have done my share, I must pay for it.'

'It is noble of you to talk so, but what of Georgiana? Her suffering means nothing?'

'Oh, do not speak of her! I think of her all the time whilst here. I cannot think of her pain. Not yet.'

James sighed. His mind was an engine ready to start its steam but now there was no scope. He decided to think this through and find a plausible solution. Of course, he knew he wouldn't succeed ethically.

Ethics had become a touching subject for him as of late. A certain young lady had shown him a sort of dignity he never knew existed, thus it was double harder for him now to render his services using deceit and malign wit, his usual means of exploit.

However, he would not allow himself to despair. His mind was sharp, his position not disagreeable, his influence not little. Some way or another he would free his friend.

The news of him having acquired Mr. Darcy's ownership papers of Bartley House lifted his spirits immensely, at first.

'But my boy! This is wonderful news. We must be able to achieve something by it. Not to mention, Darcy himself will be tenfold grateful to you and will strive to aid you.'

'It might be as you say and I am happy I've found them…I can help the brother of my dear one. He is then like a brother to me as well. But I doubt that this will secure my leave.'

'It is indeed risky, but I shall not give in. We have a track, one only, but we must follow it.'

James left the gaol with a different sort of mind, but by the time he reached his house darker thoughts had seized his mind. His housekeeper, Mrs. Lemond reminded him of his correspondence that had not been replied to, but he went into his study in an execrable mood, ignoring her.

He sat at his desk thinking of a plausible course of action to undertake. Confronting the situation with Mr. Darcy could have less than pleasing consequences, but on the other hand, the man desperately wanted to recuperate his property. If he, however, tried acting alone upon this evidence, he would perhaps face graver obstacles than envisaged.

In the end, he decided upon writing a letter to let him know of what had transpired.

* * *

Kent was, at the moment, not a favourable resting place for someone as bedridden as Mr. Bennet. It had kept bucketing down so much so that Mr. and Mrs. Collins were worried it would never stop. The first had some fears related to his orchard, the latter concerned about the wetness and cold air affecting their guest.

Mary's carriage had to stop twice to get the horses and the wheels out of deep mud, but at length she reached the Collins residence safely.

Her welcome there, however, was of the most impudent kind. Indeed, Mrs. Collins was the only creature to show some mercy regarding her weariness from travel.

As soon as she stepped foot in the house, a livid Mrs. Bennet started bellowing at her from the top of her lungs.

'Fancy seeing my daughter flaunting her graces in London, while her poor father is dying in bed! Shame on you, you recreant daughter, conniving and plotting against your own mother and sisters! I've lived to see the day when I was abandoned by all and had to tend to your father all by myself!'

This last accusation was a contraption, however, since it had been Charlotte who had waited on her father more than anyone. A mother, nevertheless, was entitled to make a fuss and scold her ungrateful offspring whenever she had the chance.

'How could you have let him go on such weather? In such conditions? You knew so well he was weak-hearted. Was it a gesture of defiance? Do you want poor Lydia to end up on the streets? Who will provide for her if your father is gone? Who will provide for you, you reckless creature? Or have you already concocted a scheme for yourself of some sorts?'

'Mama, how can you accuse me of wishing my poor father ill luck? I've mistaken terribly but don't wrench my heart so!' she exclaimed.

'Oh! I should have pity on you? It's the last time, Mary, I ever let you go by yourself anywhere, for I have seen no one can depend on you. Your duty is to stay here, at home and help your elderly parents!'

'If I recall well, mother, you were the one who put me through the journey to London to begin with,' she reminded her.

'And this is what I get for having done this much for you?! What single woman can afford this much luxury? Your father and I worked hard for you to have a chance in the world but you sought to repudiate it.'

She sighed, trembling of cold and fatigue. Her head hung sulkily down as strands of black hair swirled in front of her eyes. Her conscience started nudging her again, conspicuously, telling her to give in and accept her unpardonable errors. But there was some small pride in her that told her all was not her fault and perhaps her mother was accusing her too harshly.

'I well agree my trip brought only misfortune but let me now go to my father and care for him. I shall let you have your justice mother, you can punish me for all my ill-doings, but now papa needs us all.'

'Do not make yourself so busy! Fortunately, your sisters, Jane and Lizzy have aided me a great deal and your presence is not quite vital. I say, Mrs. Collins herself was very polite and dutiful but it is obvious she wants your father out of the house. And I couldn't agree more, such dwelling is not suited. At Bingley estate he will be more comfortable. Of course, no one listens to me, why should they?!'

With that she bid her come with her to her father's chamber, her voice crisp and severe. She had never seen her mother so upset; it was clear now that Mr. Bennet was seriously ill.

'Mother, where are Kitty and Lydia?'

'Oh! So it is now that you care to worry about them! Hypocrisy is a fine thing, my dear. Kitty and the Colonel have yet to receive our letters since they're up in the North, visiting the man's regiment. I am certain thought that, unlike _some_ fickle daughters, Kitty will arrive at Longbourn in no time.'

'At Longbourn?'

'Well! I cannot trust the servants with poor Lydia, who is in such delicate state! Kitty must take care of her. Besides, they would both be no help here.'

When Mary stepped into Mr. Bennet's ill-lit room, barren of some commodities and presenting only a small fireplace, an oak wardrobe, some chairs and a tiny crumpled bed, her heart shrank. In the sheets, lay a man who was anyone else but her father.

It was a weakened man, a man no longer in his old power, a man who had lost his vitality and energy, all absorbed by the cruel wind of time which does not allow for aged men to see another spring if they fall in winter. Ironically, it was just the beginning of a promising April.

His eyes had violet, bruised dark circles, his feeble arms showed all his pulsing veins, his chest moved unevenly and his hands trembled slightly. His white hair shone more prominent than even. For the first time, Mary saw him as an old man.

'Mr. Bennet, that wandering daughter of yours has finally come to see you. London air suited her well, humph!' Mrs. Bennet remarked going to straighten his pillow.

'Mary darling…' he said hoarsely. 'I am delighted to see you.'

Mary sat next to his bed hesitatingly, not knowing what to say, with her mother there.

'Will you, dear Mrs. Bennet, leave Mary and I alone for a while?' he spoke gravely.

'Oh! Well, I can see how you have a firm grip on your family!' she said cynically before going out upset.

'Do not mind her dear…I cannot begin to express my sorrow at having caused you all this trouble…' he half-whispered. 'When I planned my journey here, I never envisaged this sorrowful point where my entire family would bear the consequences of my reckless thinking.'

'Do not strain yourself, papa, you've done well, you only tried to provide for your family, that is what husbands do, isn't it? You couldn't have foreseen this,' Mary reassured him.

'Mr. Collins shouldn't have let the cat out of the bag in such a way, but then again, that's the man's talent,' he said coughing. 'I am worried, Mary. I thought there was still life in these old bones…'

'Of course there is! This rotting weather has done it all. No man, be him strong or feeble, can survive this wet weather and come out unscathed.'

'Ah…your poor mother, do not blame her for her anger…she's been in such a fit these past two days.'

'I know, I do not accuse her, I accuse myself for not having arrived earlier and…for other incidents,' she said looking down.

'Mary. Even if you had attempted to keep me in London I would have still travelled to Rosings, to try at least,' he said smiling. 'I had given up my pride a long time ago.'

'Will you be alright soon papa?'

'I don't know dear, I don't know… this is not like the bout I had this autumn. It looks like I will be lying in a bit longer.'

'I shall be here, always.'

'That I do not fear. I only wish to see you all happy, my dears and I hope I can, in time. So much sorrow has fallen on this family…you'd think it's to repay the happiness your two elder sisters have shared.'

* * *

At Bingley estate, there was great rumour and talk among the family members. Lizzy and Darcy had arrived earlier two days ago and she was already at her father's side, Jane being able to come from time to time as she was carrying herself harder, what with the child.

Mr. Darcy, however, received a letter in the course of the day that had been sent at Pemberley which involved important matters concerning affairs in London.

Considering this was important business he locked himself in Bingley's study and read the letter thoroughly. It was of course from Mr. Prowler and though it bore some good news, the rest was somewhat grim and almost unbelievable.

It was made known to him that not only had the documents been found, but they had been discovered by a former thief (who had now turned to more rightful ways) in an urn in Morel's house. This farfetched story continued in the arrest of Theodore Stoddard, having been discovered by long-time nemesis, Morel. If this was not his lawyer, he would think he was reading another fanciful novel by Mrs. Radcliffe.

When the facts became real in his mind, he wondered now what his course of action should be, for he could not simply call for his papers and ignore the poor soul's fait in the gaol. Thief or not, he had redeemed himself, a thing vouched for by James and he had helped him, one way or another. He owned the man, only he did not possess an ounce of power to do anything for him, per se.

Nevertheless, he instantly set to writing back, calling Mr. Prowler to Kent urgently.

'You would be setting up against that fellow, Morel, if you were to help Mr. Stoddard,' Mr. Bingley later told him during a glass of port.

'I can very well see that. Yet I must honour his service.'

'Of course you must, I never uttered a word against it. Lord knows I try to help the unfortunate as much as I can. Only you must find a useful way of helping him, Darcy.'

'Getting a man out of gaol is difficult, nevertheless, I might still have some old friends to rely on,' he spoke.

'Meanwhile, we should decide when to bring poor Mr. Bennet here. It should be done as soon as possible, the dry air in that house is very deficient for him, so the physician says,' Charles added.

Mr. Darcy nodded gravely. 'It shall be done, though I am afraid it won't help much…I have seen his state.'

'Bite your tongue, Darcy! If Elizabeth hears you…goodness I wouldn't want to be there.'

'I already told her…last night. She cried, I heard her, in her sleep…I tried as much as I could to comfort her.'

'You shouldn't have said anything!'

'I did not breach the subject to begin with, but she asked me what I thought. She told me she wasn't sure he would catch the next autumn.'

'Good Lord! How terrible! What a lot of pessimists you are! Darcy, you've corrupted poor Elizabeth and now she is as grim as you.'

'If it was only that, but our fears are becoming reality.'

* * *

Three days passed in dismal weather, when on the fourth at last the sun shone and a letter arrived at the Collins' residence. It had a very peculiar seal, not quite unfamiliar to Mary though.

Unfortunately, she was not the first to see it. She was out in town, purchasing medicine with Charlotte and her mother took the epistle in her possession, perusing it interested.

As she bore her sulky countenance through town with her friend, little did she know what her mother was already concocting.

She came back with Mrs. Collins later in the afternoon, tired and wary of her mother, but she was the first to receive her when she walked through the door.

'Mary! I have wonderful news,' she said in a somewhat upset voice (her rancour over her "errors" having not passed), holding the letter conspicuously. 'You have received a letter of great importance and I demand that you reply to it.'

Mary took the letter from Mrs. Bennet and read it in a gasp.

It was from none other than Mr. Fowler.


	28. Chapter 28

_**Hi everyone. Another late update, I know and I am again very sorry for it, but I can't help it. I love writing at it, but as of late I've had little time to do it. I hope next time I'll be more diligent because I really have a lot more to write at it:) I hope you haven't given up on it and thank you for reading and for reviewing. **_

_**To SilviaB: Thank you for the kind review and for sticking to my story for so long, I appreciate it very much. Your PM did not work so I hope you get this message.  
**_

Chapter 28: If only…

_Dear Miss Bennet, _

_I am writing to you in the hope that this last wretched letter shall reach your kind eyes. I have written you quite a few letters and I think they would make a pretty stack in your drawer, if you but kept them. If in my previous letters my tone was anything but cordial I apologise to you. If I was too imposing or sentimental you can only blame my foolish wishes to see you again. _

_I know by now that I am not held in your esteem and I do not deserve to be, but I shall choose my words differently for this epistle. I cannot say I am a changed man, men do not change much without the aid of a firm woman by their side, but I have striven to correct my faulty behaviour as much as you'd wish it. I neither drink nor gamble. I do not go out much for everything tires me and everything is empty, devoid of true life. I find myself reminiscing from time to time on how you, young lady, managed to defeat me at chess and how you talked to me of the books that inspired you. I do not wish to embarrass you but these are happy memories for me, a poor old man. _

_I know you cannot forget my past deeds, nor forgive my misdemeanours, but perhaps your heart might not be so ruthless as not to care for a sickly being like me. _

_I am quite ill, Miss Bennet. A month ago I had an unfortunate accident when I was out hunting and since I know you do not approve of this sport you will find that after this incident I will no longer want to hunt. As a cause of my boldness now I am quite bedridden and my favourite stallion is dead. I am almost paralyzed and I quite fear I shan't ever be able to use my legs properly, though the physicians remark that in due time an improvement might, with some luck, be on its way. I cannot say I have much hope, seeing as I am alone, friendless, without company or someone to care for me. I hope I did not frighten or alarm you with such news. I only wish that perhaps, in your spare time, you might come and see me at Huntington for I need a soul to bear me. I do not ask but warm friendship from you and a kind look. Nothing shall come to harm you, I only hope you can oblige this sickly man writing to you. _

_As always, I shall be expecting your letter. Your humble servant, _

_Harold Fowler _

The first thing Mary came to notice upon inspecting the date was that it had been sent to Longbourn a week ago, probably before any of the family members could receive it. In Mrs. Bennet's rush to come to Rosings, the letter was sent after her by a servant.

And now it stood in Mary's trembling fingers and she wished its contents could vanish.

'Poor Mr. Fowler, isn't it terrible?' Mrs. Bennet asked. 'And how wicked of you to make him suffer in addition, Mary!'

'Make him suffer?' she echoed.

'Well the poor man wishes to see you, you might as well pay him a visit.'

'Mama, father is ill and I cannot travel all the way to Derbyshire.'

Mrs. Bennet's physiognomy paled with barely restrained anger and she took Mary by the elbow roughly, taking her to the adjacent room, to be out of earshot.

'I do not think that under these circumstances you should act like a martyr and claim you have regard for your father.'

'What do you mean?'

'Your presence is not required here, Mary.'

Mary folded her hands defensively and started pacing around the room flustered.

'Papa needs me. He said so. I will not go on any account.'

Mrs. Bennet rubbed her eyes tiredly and bid her sit down.

'You and I both know your father cannot be bothered with too much excitement. How would you help? You're a very squeamish creature who has never done much around the house. You're not practical Mary. You'd rather be a scholar than have a good husband and a warm home. For the life of me, I can't think who has put these wretched ideas in your mind but I must wrench them out before it is too late. A woman's place should be known by her, first and foremost!'

'A woman's place? My place is here, with my family!'

'What family? You should open your eyes and see that your sisters are well married, Lydia is a widower and your father is on his death-bed. And then what shall I do? Carry you as a burden when I will have to take care of a woman with child?'

Mary wanted to reply but for the moment remained silent and looked around the modest parlour of the Collins'. How she wanted the walls to fall on her, to feel their weight on her chest and never to wake up.

'Your father might perish soon and you well know it!' Mrs. Bennet went on sharply. 'And you and your petty talents will get nowhere in life if you do not find a situation for yourself. You are not handsome or gentle as your sister Jane and for sure you cannot lower yourself to the indecency of finding a good husband,' she said ironically.

'If you do not go to Mr. Fowler I shall pack you up myself. How can you refuse the attentions of the only man who has paid them to you? Such incredibly vanity I have never seen! Why, your grandmother and great-grandmother would have chided me for being so kind to you, for indulging you too much in trifles such as books and education.'

When she felt her mother had no more to say, Mary dared speak though she found it hard not to cry.

'Books are not trifles. I will not marry Mr. Fowler. I do not love him, nor could I ever.'

'Not marry him? Ha! If the man ever proposes to a mule like you, who will not be tamed!' Mrs Bennet said catching her breath.

'And I cannot go alone,' she said over her mother's words a notch louder. 'How can I go alone to a man? I am but twenty.'

'Oh! Do not find such small details to dwell on! I shall make plans for you. Since you cannot stay with the Darcys, I will arrange for you to stay at the parish. Father Woble would be more than happy to receive you in his home.'

'Father Woble…mama this is not rightfully done!'

'You will heed to my words! You shall pay poor Mr. Fowler a visit and you shall apologise to him for the great misfortune you have caused him. Hm! A man suffering on accounts of you, well I've seen the day!'

'I shall go if I must but I shall not wait on the gentleman as you wish me to. I cannot accept him as a friend or a suitor.'

'Do not flatter yourself already, Mary and let us count our chicken after the eggs have hatched. If he does ever make a proposal you shall accept it.'

'I will not,' Mary said rising. 'I will not.'

Mrs. Bennet's lip trembled as she steadied herself and before Mary knew it she had already advanced to her and slapped her hard over the face.

'Get out of my face you ungrateful child,' she whispered and bowed her head sorrowfully.

Mary did not even flinch and taking the hems of her dress she ran out of the room, slamming the door.

* * *

Mr. Prowler sat hunched in the carriage over some books he had carried with him. He was reading again some old works from the university, in the hope of achieving some great progress or discovering a loophole.

Yet, all his knowledge amassed to this; superior help was needed to deal against a fellow that had half of London at his toe. If Mr. Darcy could give any help he would take it humbly, though he doubted anything could be solved, even after his urgent letter.

Kent was looking sunny and muddy after a long period of rain and he indulged to look out the window at the poplars bowing towards the red road.

If only he could stop from this turmoil and look out into the sky without a care…

Why did he choose this horrible path? He could have been a wealthy farmer like his father. Then everything would have ceased to matter but the sky and the rain, the soil and the trees.

Unfortunately he had been vain and stupid thinking town would open his horizon, thinking studying such a dead art would take him anywhere. He only sank into depravation more.

He became someone known and almost respected, he became a fashionable gentleman, but the roots could never be erased.

And the roots told him he wasn't made for this journey of prevarication, corruption, foil, boisterous women and liquor…all that London could offer to a young man.

Yet could he return home to his family and sit on the porch looking at the dying sun, bringing a new day? No… he felt there was more in store to life than this. He felt he must discover something beyond his senses, he felt he was destined to learn much more than to feel the heart of the earth. And was this it?

Were these books what he was looking for? Was not he the one who should have been in the gaol?

Theodore was a pure soul. Surely, he had committed many terrible acts perhaps…yet he was a pure soul, he had always been honest. He had been made to act in such a way by the blasts of life.

And he? Had he been made to do anything but be a good man?

He was not a good man. He could never be one.

As the carriage passed a small brown hill he could see the shape of a familiar house and a nice, crammed little garden.

James' eyes were arrested by the sight of a young woman, going out through the gate, following the red road with tired steps and quiet sighs. Her hands hung limply by the side of her body and her feet seemed to carry her wherever the wind blew.

Mary turned her gaze towards the carriage, but her pupils seemed white as if an entire world was buried in them and she could not make sense of the objects around her.

She did not see him passing by but James recognized that melancholy air that seemed to surround her wherever she went. It was like a soft perfume that permeated your coat and never left your nostrils until you closed your mind to her image.

He opened the window and crouched to call for her, yet he pulled away and sat down again.

He was not a schoolboy and she was not a happy maiden waiting for a lad to be jilted.

He watched those black eyes following the clouds and he wondered what she was thinking.

Suddenly he felt a bout of anger climbing up his throat. She had humiliated him!

Her silly common sense had crumbled all his well-made plans. His entire scheme fell to dust when she slapped him over the face with her principles.

How he wanted to shake her and shout in her face how she had destroyed his friend's life!  
And then…it all ended.

Just like a ray which dies in the night…his anger disappeared. And instead a hollow feeling pierced his eyes. He felt like kicking and yelling in agony.

It hadn't been her fault! How could it? Theodore had destroyed his own life. It had been his fault and James had only added more to that sorrow.

Her principles…were all the more beautiful, she was not perfect, she erred and perhaps that made her suffer so much.

She was just another illusion from his life, she was an idealist like he had once been.

And he had been close to staining everything she was, he had been close to marring her just like he had marred his soul when he had left for London.

Only she had stopped him. She had stopped him from marring herself and…could she have stopped him from marring his own spirit?

Could she have helped him?

No. She only saw him as a disgrace, she probably abhorred him for making her feel the guilt that was not duly hers to feel.

He did not want to shout at her, he wanted to shout at himself and make himself comprehend the nature of her. Not a woman! How stupid, she was not a woman.

She was a silly little thing that could shine from time to time.

Maybe she was the last silly little thing left in this forlorn country. Should he preserve her?

How could he? With her upbringing and family she would be thrown in the midst of life with a drunkard and five children. She would forever remain a silly pedant when he could make her flourish, perhaps show her the greatness of life.

But why he? Why did he think he could do it?

He treasured the life in her too much to let her go astray. He would not talk to her, not look at her, but he would like to guide her. At least one ideal of his life should be protected from the wild torrent that seemed to fall on all men.

With that last thought in mind he looked back once more. Even from afar, the black pool of her eyes swallowed the carriage, the road, the sky and offered him a sleepless slumber.

* * *

Charles Bingley received his old friend with the same gallantry as if nothing had happened, choosing to ignore the many predicaments that had fallen over the family.

James could not help but notice however that his eyes were sunken, his skin sallow, his entire figure weakened. His wife looked rather worse and the Darcys were only a shadow of what the husband and wife had been in winter.

The prevailing danger of death marked a serious change in their dispositions. You could barely catch a smile now and then. James thought it was all very unfair, for a bit of happiness man having to suffer so much pain.

But there it was; laid open to the eyes of everyone, their sorrow.

As it turned out, Mr. Darcy had much to say to the young man, in the private study.

'I am grateful to you for having made this trip on such short notice. I hope I did not encumber your affairs,' Mr. Darcy began.

'Not at all, I was eager to speak to you concerning our common troubles.'

'Yes…that too indeed. Would you like a pint of brandy?'

'It would do me well, thank you.'

Darcy took a very long time pouring the drink from the decanter, almost wishing to prolong the dreadful discussion.

'Mr. Darcy, pardon me my intrusion, but you do not seem well, Sir.'

'Don't I? Well, you might as well know that Mr. Bennet's imminent death is not my only concern, unfortunately.'

James nodded, leaning his head back on the upholstered armchair, feeling the warm flicker of fire on his back.

'Here you have the documents in question; safe and sound,' he said placing the wad on the table in front of him.

'Thank you so much, Mr. Prowler. I do not know what I would have done without you…I thought these would be lost forever, but you have saved me from graver consequences. I am much indebted to you…'

'Yes I know you are. I am happy to have helped you, especially in these sad times. However, let us not forget of the man you really owe a great deal to.'

Mr. Darcy shrugged his shoulders slightly and turned to tend to the poker in the fire.

'Mr. Stoddard.'

'Yes, Sir. I hope my letter explained thoroughly the details of the matter.'

'He is a common thief.'

'Was a common thief, Sir. Now he has turned a new leaf and is ready to start out as a decent young man. His first act of kindness was of course, to put his life in danger and find the documents for you in Morel's own house, where he was sought, found and…finally captured. Luckily, he hid the important papers so well that the infamous man could not find them.'

'I understand he has…changed as you say, but how can I trust that this is not yet another ruse?'

'Another ruse?' James asked hollow. 'The poor man is locked up. I do not think he was scheming much. I wonder Sir whether your real fear lies in Mr. Morel and not in my friend.'

At this Mr. Darcy fixed his glare on the pointed eyes of the skilful lawyer.

'Even if I did fear Morel, I would be right to do so, wouldn't I?'

'I suppose so. Still, your duty would be to help my friend, Sir. This would also be my compensation for my hard work.'

'I know that, alright? I know that very well. I trust you well enough. I can't say I trust your friend completely, but I agree he is a tolerable man. But I cannot give you my word that I can put up against…'

'I am not asking you to give me your word. I only think two against one is better.'

'What should we do?'

'First thing, we should go to court and settle this matter of yours with your property. Perhaps we can hit two birds with one stone, by proving Morel has illegally taken your rightful good. From then on, we can only pray that Providence will be on our side.'

'Then what do you demand of me?' Mr. Darcy inquired.

'I only demand you support me in my cause, Sir, in court and wherever we shall go. Have some faith in my powers and I shall have in yours.'

Mr. Darcy furrowed his brows and sat thinking for a good minute or two.

'It does sound reasonable to follow up this first step.'

James smiled gregariously and pushed his brandy aside.

'And if that does not convince you, Sir, I can assure you, you would not only make my friend happy, but also a fair lady you care much about.'

* * *

After a while or so, Mrs. Bennet returned to her senses and gathered up her trestles and went outside to see where her daughter had gone. She realised now she had been too rough on her and had not induced her to follow her reason. She had only lengthened the distance between them and now was starting to see the error of it.

Persuading Mary was not difficult. One had to speak her language and she had forgotten to enlist the help of her maternal knowledge of her studious and conscientious daughter.

She found her sitting by the hen barn, on one of the ladder rungs.

'Mary dear, come inside the house now. It's getting close to dusk. The wind has started blowing and we do not need another ill person around!' she said kindly.

Mary rose sulkily and went into the back garden. Mrs. Bennet followed her, catching her breath every now and then. She stepped into some rotten eggs and some donkey manure, but she eventually reached her as Mary went to collect some dry clothes, hung on the cabbages in the little orchard.

'Now you needn't do that! You're not a servant here,' she said taking her hands. 'Listen to me, Mary. I know I was harsh with you, but a mother sometimes has to put sense back into her child's mind. After all, a mother knows best what's good for her child. You don't know life like I do…I am a great deal older than you. That is why I am entitled to speak. Now look at me please. Let's sit down.'

They sat down on the back porch, her mother still trying to hold her hands though she pried them away as much as possible.

'I am not your enemy, Mary. Heavens no… I only want you to find a good home, like all your sisters. Listen, when I was bearing you, your father wanted you to be a boy very much but I insisted I wanted a girl. I said, three girls ought to do it for me. You are my young girl as I wished. Do not disappoint me, do not disappoint your father. If you turned out to be girl, then you must do your duty.'

Mary turned her weary head to her mother and spoke very slowly, as if spitting out every letter.

'I will go tomorrow to see my sisters at the Bingley estate.'

'Oh! Well, that's a good thing for you to do. I heard Miss Darcy will be coming too. Yes, yes…do talk to them.'

'Mother, perhaps it would have been better if I had been a boy. I am not meant to be a girl like all girls, I suppose.'

'How do you mean?'

'Nothing, I was just thinking.'

* * *

The next morning, Mary walked the few miles to the Bingley household, where she would meet Lizzy, Jane and Georgiana. Little did she know that there was one more guest at the estate.

Mary did not find any of them home when she arrived, for it was Sunday and they had gone to church to pray for Mr. Bennet.

'Oh, it's Sunday! How could I have forgotten? I forgot it was Sunday! I must go after them immediately.'

'I can take you there, Miss Bennet, if you please.'

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned towards the winding staircase, upon which Mr. Prowler was descending. Mary almost flushed in shock, but her face rather paled upon remembering their last talk and the shame of it. He probably felt very angry with her, having been made a fool by a silly little woman.

Mary thought she should apologise for having rudely run away, but stopped considering the ridicule of the situation.

'Oh, no, Sir, it's alright, I can take a chaise.'

'Are you sure? They are not very trustworthy.'

'I might not even go to church…I shall see,' she said turning.

'Well, then, if you do not mean to go anywhere perhaps you can join me for tea in the drawing room. I'd like to have a word with you.'

'Perhaps another time, we are alone.'

'Yes, I was meaning to talk in private,' he said.

'It is not very proper.'

'Come now, Miss Mary, you are not one to hold with propriety,' James said, shadowing some of that old banter between them.

'Maybe not, but in this case…'

'You are ashamed to face me because of what happened.'

'No, that is not…'

'Then let's sit down for some tea and talk. It shan't kill you.'

She relented in the end and was led to the drawing room in silence, followed by his imposing figure. She thought he meant no good. Perhaps he wanted a breach with her, to tell her he had been insulted and wounded in his pride by her impudence. No matter, Mary would listen and bear it. After all, she knew she had been right in her decision.

They ceremoniously sat down at one of the windows, with two cups in front of them, empty and forlorn. The biscuit tray was empty as well and there were no scones on the plates.

'I thought you said we would have tea.'

'Tea is a derogatory word for serious conversation, my dear Miss Bennet. I was only implying we should civilly profess to take tea when we are actually conversing like two responsible adults.'

'Alright, have your say then.'

James got up and started pacing the room in a very decided manner. He was pondering over something, going back and forth.

'Well then?'

'I was thinking.'

'Sir, what news have you of Theodore?' she asked shyly.

Mr. Prowler stopped in his step and half-smirked, knowingly.

'Oh, he is locked up, Miss Bennet.'

'Locked up?!'

'You did not know? Mr. Morel found him in his house and…decided to make him pay for his sister's disloyalty.'

'I…I see…poor Theodore, I am terribly, terribly sorry.'

'Oh, do not give me any of that Miss Bennet. After all, you were there, you knew that would happen.'

She was about to get up but he urged her to sit down.

'I am not going to accuse you if that is what you wanted to say. I know you did the right thing.'

She gaped, stared at him eyes-wide, not meaning to say anything.

'You do?'

'Yes. Despite my former bout of anger and misery, I discovered you did what you had to do, not as an honourable female, not as a gentile lady, but as a worthy person and I respect that.'

'Oh! I am relieved…'

'So was I, to know that my plan had failed. On the one hand I was furious, on the other, I was happy to know you were safe.'

Mary blushed slightly and started folding her napkin in many squares.

'It wasn't about my safety.'

'Yes, yes, it was about morals and principals…Oh please do not blush, I am not mocking you! I really admired what you did.'

'You admire what I did?!'

'Well, of course! I was a perverse being to suggest what I suggested. Even now…upon thinking it through I find it gruesome! And I did discover in time there is always a way when one wants to do good. There is always a just way to justice…though it may be an impossible one. I am grateful to you.'

'What for?'

'For teaching me that. Not many people teach me anything anymore. I've seen many things in my life, though I am fairly young. I do not mean to apologize and beg your forgiveness. I know that is what I am supposed to do, but I cannot. I acted on my instinct, I was a desperate man seeking help, I loved my friend a good deal and I did not want to give up without a fight or a scheme of some sort. I know "desperate" is an exaggeration, but you see, I never lost a case. I do not want to lose this one. _This_ is not the point however.'

'Sir, before you go on, I do not want your apology, I am glad you realised what you did was wrong. I shouldn't have run away like I did.'

'Oh, but it was a real novelty!'

'_Now_ you mock me.'

'On the contrary, it was lovely to see you walk away in that beautiful apparel. It gave more mystery to the night, don't you think?'

'Perhaps I should leave.'

'Well, stay a little while longer, till I am done and then you are free.'

'What more do you wish to say?'

James braced himself and went to her seat.

'Nothing more than that I would be honoured if you could give me your hand in marriage.'

'I beg your pardon?!'

'I am asking you to marry me.'

Mary got up as fast as lightning and dropped her napkin to the floor.

'What is this trickery?'

'No trickery at all. I've come to the conclusion you are the only female I could stand by my side.'

'That is no concern of mine! As far as I know, you are not one for marriage.'

'I am not, but under the circumstances, the only way I could keep you under my sight is marriage…Society, you see is a blessing and a curse.'

'Keep me under your sight?'

'I wish to protect you Miss Bennet and be by your side. I've…grown rather attached to you, if you can believe it. I feel my duty is to raise you from your poor lot and show you what you are truly worth.'

'My _poor lot_? I'll have you know I am very happy with _my lot_. Yours is none the better!'

James took her hand gently.

'Oh, but I did not mean that. I only meant…I would save you from marriage to some boring minister or accountant who would give you many young troublesome children to look after and a pig sty.'

Mary began to feel anger and her cheeks were turning bright red.

'So that is my destiny, you think?'

'Not that you wish it, but you cannot escape it. However, with me, you would have a chance, don't you think?'

'I rather do not, Sir. Your poor excuse of proposal did not fool me. You are still angry with me, frustrated that I do not bow to your incredible logics.'

'Incredible logics? The epithets you indulge me with! I assure you I have thought about you long and hard and no longer bear any resentment.'

'Well, maybe I do. I cannot accept you.'

'Why ever not? You expect something better, Miss Bennet?'

'Am I not entitled to?'

James stopped and looked at her. She looked very pretty in the early morning light, with rosy cheeks and tangled hair.

'A female should be modest in her opportunities…'

'I am not the sort of female to be modest, as you say. Thank you for the proposal, but I refuse it.'

'You still have given me no reason for it!'

Mary thought about Lydia, the child, Wickham and the curious incident her sister had accounted to her in that letter. How James and his cousin had fought over Lydia, how James did not want Wickham to ruin his reputation and kept him quiet…

'You know very well all my reasons!'

She meant to leave the room but he caught her hand.

'What if I were to tell you that I cared for you?'

Something behind his eyes was different, as if a recurring shadow had passed and now a glimmer of hope was in them.

'I wouldn't know whether to believe you or not.'

'Why would you not?'

Mary paused. 'It's too early Sir. You have done too many things…think of my sister, Lydia, think of Margaret Stoddard and the entire ruckus…'

'Your sister, Lydia?!' he bellowed. 'What about her?'

'I do not have to tell you myself, do I? You know well what I mean! How do you think I could accept you then?'

His countenance suddenly darkened and he let her go.

'It's too early, or rather too late,' he echoed emptily. 'I understand. This is what you think of me then. Well, I shall not trouble you any longer. It was lovely having tea with you, Miss Bennet. Charming as always. Goodbye.'

With that he took his hat and left the room hastily.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Finally back! Hi there, the absence was due to me arranging some school affairs and going on my holiday with my parents! Eastern Europe rocks! Anyway it was lovely. I needed to get back to writing this story of mine that I quite treasure, be it bad or good. It's my biggest project in writing, up till now.**_

_**Anyway I wanted to thank all the wonderful reviewers and to answers some anonymous ones. **_

_**ixi-shaj: Hi, guess that was awkward for both of them, but it was spontaneous, like all such things. Neither was ready for it. Yes it does resemble Lizzy/Darcy but things will be kind of different, you shall see (love P&P too much not to make some resemblances). Thanks for reviewing. **_

_*****__** : Hi there, whoever you are :) The whole Mary/Prowler mirroring Pride and Prejudice, well...I don't like to spoil the story so I'll just say once more things shall be quite different. Let us remember Mary isn't Lizzy and while Darcy is proud, reserved and affectionate, Prowler is genuinely egotistic and versatile, confused and arrogant. **__**Arrogance and gregariousness are two characteristics Darcy doesn't possess so strongly.**_

_**Coals to Newcastle: Hey, thanks for the really, really kind review, I mean this is too big a compliment. Thanks a bunch! I really wish Jane Austen had had some plans for Mary too. In any case, I don't compare with the authoress but I can at least give her a homage. Somerset Maugham once said she has the power of keeping one hooked in her wonderful world and I guess the proof of it is visible to this day.**_

_**lifestory-101**__**: Thanks for the nice review, it's good to know I can still surprise readers. **_

_**Irore**__**: Hi there, thanks a bunch for the kind review. If the proposal was a bit rushed it was because Prowler himself wasn't ready for it. He rushed into it not knowing what else to do. As you might have noticed he isn't quite sure of his own feelings. Heck, he doesn't know his own feelings. He only knows he wants to preserve her, as if wanting to keep a beautiful flower from withering. He was reminded of himself at the beginnings of his youthful life and whether he had made the right choices. Subconsciously, he didn't want her to end up like him, bitter with life. In truth that is what he wanted to prevent, not her becoming a common wife. Because in a way, he thought he could get back his own life if he protected hers. Hope the explanation helped. Oh and there will be more exposition on his feelings when he settles them :) **_

_**lovethestory:**__** Hi, thanks for the wonderful review, it boosts my confidence, like all reviews do:) I see you understand Prowler quite well, I've explained more of his feelings at the previous reviewer. He was in double minds about the marriage. Unfortunately, I can't tell you much about the Lydia-Prowler affair, you'll have to read and I hope you do. Everything shall be explained later. Fowler too remains a character that shall be explained thoroughly a bit later. I hope you will read till the end to find out. Thanks for reading my story up until now.**_

_**Once again, thank you all and please tell me what you think :)  
**_

Chapter 29: Epiphany

Mary needed several moments to calm down her agitated breath, but when she did she immediately ran out of the room, embarrassed at the way they had parted.

She felt sorry for him in a way and wanted to apologise, but not knowing what for.

She caught him as he was stepping down the stairs to the paved alley.

'Mr. Prowler! Have a safe trip…wherever you are going.'

He turned stiffly and smiled a very congested, irritated, knowing smile.

'Why Miss Bennet, did we not say goodbye before? You are spoiling my decorum by coming here to wave at me like a common country maid. I am not going to war.'

'Well, why are you so angry, Sir?' she asked distraught.

'You always manage to make my day, Miss Bennet. I presume you are unaware that I do not like refusals, I do not take them well, especially from petty, pedant little girls with no head to know what is right for them.'

'I know what is right for me,' she said defiantly, her pride and annoyance swelling in her heart.

'I am overjoyed to hear it. I am sure I would love to come and see you collect chicken eggs some day. I am actually glad you did not accept me, Miss Bennet. Heavens know what I could have done with an obstinate woman such as you. You and your mother are more alike than you think.'

Mary's face turned white and red all over and she refrained from throwing insults at him by pinching her skin hard.

'Quite a speech there. I presume you are done.'

'Indeed, I am! I would not want to bore you. Good day, Miss Bennet.'

James Prowler pulled the hems of his horse and took off without a look back, wishing to erase her image from his scalp for the moment.

Mary clicked her heels angrily and turned towards the house, seeing as great black clouds were about to pour their weight on the estate.

'How awfully rude! What a proud, arrogant man. As if!' she muttered trying to hold her chest whose heart beat too fast.

_As if I could ever…_

_See me collect chicken eggs? Well! He'll see. I shan't bury my life here, I will be damned if I do!_

_And yet... why would he wish to give me a better life? Did he really care?_

_He probably wanted to guard me as some relic. Nothing more. _

She almost felt like crying but Mary Bennet never cried unless there was a good reason behind it. She could almost hear his words, piercing her red ears again and again but it was only some drops of rain. It would not do to look back.

Her mother always told her marriages are somewhat like businesses. The way men make their fortunes in commerce, women make theirs in marriages.

A simple mind would think these connections are formed on feelings and common natures, but maybe the elder knew best. Maybe she was a silly fool looking for something that wasn't there. She had to admit that the proposal had shaken some of her reason.

_He thinks I am a spineless woman simply because I shan't tie my life to him. He thinks…oh what do I care what he thinks about? He is a reckless coward, that's what he is. _

'I won't be just a stupid country maid!' she almost yelled.

'Who said you would?'

She turned surprised and saw Lizzy walking up the steps all drenched in rain waiter.

'Lizzy…what are you doing here?'

'I am staying here for the time being,' she said smiling. 'Have you forgotten Mary?'

'Oh, goodness, yes I know…I am sorry, are you going to see papa?'

'Yes, a bit later. Is everything alright? Have you come to visit us?' she asked taking her hand.

'Yes…I mean no…I…don't know what to do,' Mary said fidgeting desperately.

'How do you mean?' she asked concerned. Lizzy tried to take her to the drawing room but she shrank away as if burnt.

'No, no, not there!'

'Mary what in God's name is wrong?'

'Oh Lizzy, if you only knew! Life is so difficult at times; I don't know what to do! Father is ill and I…I am to be a stupid maid, I'll probably end up in a farm and I'll be destitute and thick-headed, I'll forget all about books and I shall never do anything with my life! I will probably collect chicken eggs like _he_ said!' Mary burst out spilling tears on her pale cheeks as a frightened Lizzy tried to calm her.

'Mary, who said such a thing?!'

'No one, it doesn't matter! Tell me it isn't true Lizzy, tell me there is more to life than this.'

'Oh come now, come to my room and we shall have a talk,' she said softly taking her arm gently and leading her up the stairs. 'You need to stop crying, I can't have you suffering now when so many are sorrowful already.'

They sat down in Lizzy's own parlour, while Mary tried to dry her cheeks with her old handkerchief, in vain.

'I think the problems seem like giants to you now, but they can be overcome, I assure you. There were times like these before, when we all thought there was no solution. But you see, there is always a solution, even choosing not to act might be one. Just let things come and face them as you can, I say.'

'I wish I could think like that, Lizzy. But I can't be content with anything.'

'How do you mean?'

'I shan't be happy if I marry, and I shan't be happy if I remain alone. I am never truly at peace. And perhaps I am selfish now for complaining.'

'Marriage is not such a terrible thing. In fact you grow to like it if you love your husband.'

Mary nodded complacent and briefly smiled bitterly.

'I am sure you are right, but this is not for me. Love is something very strange and everyone writes about it as if they knew perfectly well what it is but I am sure they know nothing. That's why they write about it, hoping they'll find out.'

Lizzy raised an eyebrow perplexed.

'And you do? Do you know?'

Mary shook her head and continued brushing her cheeks. 'For me marriage kills love! Oh if he hadn't…if there wasn't this…union! People would be so happy! I would be so happy…but then again people always come and go and are they ever what you expect?'

'Mary! Who has done this to you? Who do you love?'

She looked up as if shaken from a trance. Her eyes widened and she coughed loudly trying to get rid of a terrible taste on her lips. Her own words frightened her.

She stayed in the chair for several minutes, not speaking, looking at the small saucer and the shadows playing on it.

She hastily got up and straightened her frock.

'I must leave sister. I must leave for Derbyshire.'

Lizzy rose alarmed. 'Whatever for?!'

'I have a… friend to see there.'

* * *

'At last you see reason! I knew your sisters would guide you rightfully! They have more experience than you do. I told you this is the best choice,' Mrs. Bennet said beaming gleefully as she helped Mary pack her last belongings.

'Yes mother,' she said quietly inspecting one of her books. 'It's damp.'

'Oh, leave that now! Have you written to Mr. Fowler?'

'Yes. He replied in most affectionate terms.'

'He is a wonderful man indeed. I can't understand why you were so adamantly against him, but I am glad you have changed. I have arranged everything for you with Mrs. Woble and her husband. They are only too happy to receive you. They have been worried and they are in want of companionship and news from Kent. Do be polite and considerate to them and thank them for their kindness.'

'I shall.'

'Oh and send my best wishes to Mr. Fowler too and my gratitude for his invitation.'

'Mother, you've already told me.'

'I wouldn't want you to forget!'

The room was crammed with luggage and furniture. The small window was dirty and dark, the air was thick and the candles were dying in the old room, her improvised bedroom at Collins. She couldn't even see her own bed, her own face in the mirror.

She never asked herself about the beginning and the end. She was a superficial being, a coquette herself. Weren't all women the same? No talent, no mind, no depth.

Why did it matter anymore where she came from, what she was meant to do?

Maybe she should give in, since she had already approved of her mother's plans. Perhaps she should throw herself in any man's arms and, come what may, she would lie with him and smell the scent of brutal love. But she wasn't voluptuous or at least romantic.

Maybe she should become a hermit and climb sacred mountains searching for an answer. But she was far too daft and dirty for it.

Maybe she should become a governess and earn her own penny, while teaching young ones Greek. But she was far too selfish and inapt for it. She couldn't even know if she knew anything at all.

_Why couldn't I be born a man? Being a woman has its charms but I do not relish in those charms. Maybe I should. Maybe…Why is there never a certitude? My life is an endless maybe._

'I am worried for father,' she mumbled.

'He will be alright. The physician said he needs fresh air. He will soon come and live at the Bingleys. He will be as right as rain after some weeks there. I daresay when you come back you shall see him walking.'

'Won't he be upset about my departure?'

'Heavens no! He was thrilled to hear you can be of service to that honourable gentleman.'

Mary doubted her father was _thrilled_ but had to believe her mother for the time being.

She could not even go say goodbye to him. He was resting and Mrs. Bennet thought it would harm him. They had talked a while in the morning but now it was time for Mary to leave and there was no room left for discussions. A week had come and gone, it was enough time to say any adieus and pack up for the journey of _such prospects_, as Mrs. Bennet called it.

Mr. Bennet did not oppose the idea, he only did not comprehend. He was melancholy and confused, but not entirely disapproving when Mrs. Bennet whispered to him Mr. Fowler was attached to Mary dearly and might even propose. The thought of Mary finding happiness warmed his old heart at least a bit.

'If you need me or if anything happens you shall call for me, won't you?' Mary asked fretted.

'Well! I hope that won't be the case! We shall keep you posted,' she said trying to do up her tangled hair. 'You shall know everything that we know, my dear. You always have.'

'I suppose…'

The carriage was waiting outside, the horses breathing tiredly. The gates banged, hit by the strong wind.

'Dreadful weather in spring!' her mother said as if warning her as she placed the coat over her shoulders and kissed her forehead making a small cross over her head.

'I shall keep in mind.'

The doors opened for her as she stepped outside in the weary dusk. There was no colour in her cheeks and one would think she was just as ill as her father, but one would be wrong. She was actually quite resilient and much stronger in times of need. Her passion rose from others needing her, her heart swelled whenever she acted.

'Mary.'

Mrs. Collins was shaking her hand gently. 'Be safe and write to us soon.'

Mr. Collins and a young boy helped her with her luggage, the former always whispering to her she should not trust Father Woble for having some catholic habits unworthy of any Anglican parish.

She got in the carriage without replying and turned her head towards the empty hills.

'Please let us leave,' she told the driver. He acquiesced and the carriage moved before her mother could come and tell her anything else.

The murky road opened to her as a window into the past. She was going far away, in her mind, leaving all behind, her father, her past.

Perhaps it was silly, that one chance encounter should make up her mind.

She was an impressionable woman, a woman who thought little of the future, more of the past and everything of the present.

But if she loved Mr. Prowler, she couldn't stay.

And love him she did.

* * *

Mr. Bennet found out in the morning that his daughter had left. He cursed his wife for not waking him and he rarely did curse her. Mostly he did not bother with her fits and moods. But now his dear Mary was gone on heavy roads and he had been sleeping.

He tried to get out of bed and barely had he managed when Mrs. Collins put him back in.

'Not yet, Mr. Bennet. You are very weak. You need your rest if you wish to walk steadily again.'

'I need to see to my own business and not be treated like a milksop by everyone!' he said angrily pushing her away. 'Call my wife please.'

Mrs. Bennet came to his call but she regretted ever showing herself to him, for her husband was quite rough with her, having just woken up, morose and put off, he only told her off and chided her almost as if she were a child. He reprimanded her for her lack of thought and care.

'But you agreed to her departure!'

'Perhaps I was not fit to think! I…I did not want her to go so far, so fast, I wanted her to stay.'

'But Mr. Bennet! Only think how happy she will be if she marries Mr. Fowler. She will have a home…'

'That is true, but you should have consulted more with me.'

'Yet I did! Indeed I did!'

'Then Mary should have talked to me more.'

'Then do not blame me.'

'Oh I blame you! You were inclined to let her go without my calling. You did not want me putting other ideas into her head. How did she come about going in any case?'

'It seems her sisters convinced her,' she said meekly.

'Heavens, what a family, what a concoction of odd characters!'

'Well you are the head of this family!' she said getting red in the face.

'Then let me act like one,' he said trying to get up again, flinging his hands in the air.

'Keep quiet! You shall be the death of you, stay put, Mr. Bennet.'

'I shall do what I please. Where are Kitty and Lydia? Why haven't they come yet?' he asked as if woken up from a long sleep, as if only now he could recall having other daughters.

'Lydia is at home and…'

'Alone?'

'I left her with the servants.'

'You left that daughter of ours, with child and alone? Know you not her silly tricks and mischievous mind?'

'Do not talk of your own daughter so! She has suffered infinitely!'

'Her suffering was her own doing. I suppose you think Lydia better than all her sisters?'

'I think she has suffered the most!'

'And that makes her indeed a saint?' he replied ironically.

'Mr. Bennet! How awfully cruel you are!'

'I am only speaking the truth!'

'Speaking the truth? How will your painful remarks help our poor daughter? Misfortune is upon her! When will she ever get married in this state?'

'Better she not be married!'

'Mr. Ben…'

'Remember, _Helen_, how we took each other.'

He almost never called her by her own name. She turned all white. He wouldn't bring up such memories.

'You were with child. Your father threatened to shoot me lest I married you. I do not wish to make a young man do the same for Lydia.'

Mrs. Bennet tried to speak, but her throat was too dry for even the shriek of anger that was swelling in her bosom.

'I thought you loved me a little bit!' she whispered, tears in her eyes. 'I am old! I am old! I can't stand it, not now!'

In a fit of anger, she ran out of the room as if she was once more sixteen.

'Mrs. Bennet! Helen! Come back…' he almost whispered closing his eyes in pain.

He got up and threw the saucer and tea on the floor.

'Helen! I did not mean it…Please!'

Charlotte ran inside the room looking positively alarmed.

'Mr. Bennet! What on Earth happened?'

'Helen! Where is she?'

'Mrs. Bennet? She is out on the porch…'

'Call her back! Call her back please…'

The young wife acquiesced and turned to leave while Mr. Bennet waited in dreadful silence.

The wind still blew with some fortitude, unsettling the window panes. But the sun was prevailing over the clouds.

Then the entire room echoed with a terrible scream.

Mr. Collins' voice was heard.

'Dear Lord…' he whispered in shock.

Mr. Bennet had barely managed to reach the window, dragging himself sorrowfully only to see outside a dishevelled and frightened Charlotte wailing. He opened the shutters and saw a mass of white and blue lying outside the gates. A small chaise was next to it, along with a chestnut horse that was beating his hoofs terribly.

'Mrs. Bennet!' Charlotte moaned. 'Mrs. Bennet!'

'What has happened? What has happened?' Mr. Bennet whispered frightened, shaking altogether.

'She is dead, dear God, she is dead!' Mr. Collins exclaimed touching her neck.


	30. Chapter 30

_**Hi, new chapter again, taking longer than expected, but had some nasty writer's block. Anyway, hope you enjoy it and thanks ixi-shaj for the kind review. **_

Chapter 30: Storms in spring

Mary arrived in Derbyshire after a few days' trip and found it rather lackadaisical. Nothing sparkled in spring, the rain prevailed and the flowers of the trees were soaked and withered. But something in the air gave her comfort since the air was warm and the sky was yellow.

She arrived at the parson's house and was welcomed most obsequiously. Mrs. Woble was very eager to talk and gossip, since she did not derive much pleasure from talking to Mrs. Reynolds who refused her the pleasure of knowing more of Mr. Bennet's situation.

Mary gave a clear account of the situation, but did not elaborate much on anything else.

She wrote a small epistle to Mr. Fowler, announcing him she had arrived and he immediately sent a chaise for her the following morning.

The house looked as imposing and mysterious as always. Huntington Hall had not changed much, but the gardens looked a bit more pruned. She remembered her last visit to the place with a pang of mortification and hate, but she tried to stifle the latter considering the state of the estate's owner.

She was welcomed in his study and they had tea there, Mr. Fowler entrapped in a tall chair, with a cane by his side.

'I cannot express my gratitude enough…I thank you so much for having come,' he said smiling.

'No need for it. I have come to help a friend,' she said coldly.

'And I am honoured to be your friend, Miss Bennet. Pray tell me, is your father in better health?'

'He was tolerably well when I left him.'

'It must have been terribly hard for you to part from him now.'

Mary chose not to reply. She looked around the oak-panelled room.

'How is your state?' she asked eventually.

'I am feeling quite well…yes, but as you can see I have dismissed a great number of my servants and feel rather dejected. My legs are in pain.'

'I am afraid you have received your punishment,' Mary said slightly flushed.

He smiled sadly nodding his head.

'How is Anne?' she asked all of a sudden.

'Oh, please Miss Bennet, let us not talk of her.'

'Why should we not?'

'It is not a sensible subject. Better tell me what you have read, what you have occupied yourself with.'

'You know, Sir, you should marry her.'

'Oh, please…'

'But I insist,' Mary said firmly. 'Did not Lady Catherine oblige you?'

'I asked her hand…but the Lady refused me, adding I was not worthy of it. I asked her twice…once when she was fifteen and then…after…'

'So! You had courted her before! But it hadn't been of much success, therefore you tried to win her hand like a scoundrel,' Mary spat out.

'Please, Miss Mary…'

'But nevertheless, you lost it all. And you had the impertinence to guile another young woman who had never wronged you.'

'I have explained…' he said sourly, 'I have written to you many a times… You were a drop of innocence in my life Miss Bennet and I did not wish to break friendship with…with you,' he said trying to catch her hand in his. 'I loved Anne, I did! Yet you were such a sweet girl…I couldn't help thinking I was a better man in your company.'

'Do not suppose I have forgiven you! I should not have come, but I did. You should not look me in the eye,' Mary said refusing to say anything else.

At length they finished their tea and Mary took her leave, telling him she would return the following day.

'But you have barely stayed an hour!' he protested.

'I have no wish to stay longer, Sir. Good day,' she said and made her leave.

Yet Mary came the following day and the next without forgetting her duty.

No letter arrived for her from Kent about the dismal dissolution of her mother and that on account of the weather.

Nobody had seen so many storms in spring, such terrible weather where no sun could comfort, no breeze could calm. Travelling was prohibitive and letters arrived terribly late.

Therefore Mary, unaware of the situation at hand, remained at Huntington with Mr. Fowler and his troublesome company.

She read for him and sometimes even played on his old pianoforte, when she thought he was not present, but he always sat in the room adjoining it to listen to the melodies.

Her days passed in a slow dissipation, but she did not feel quite alone. She thought of James often and tried to cleanse her mind of his memory but hardly succeeded. She was worried for her father and had sent three letters already but had received no answer. The weather was so rough she sometimes remained at the parish.

Father Woble made many sermons in which he commended the villagers to pray for the mollification of the angry weather.

Sometimes Mary walked through the Huntington gardens, with a shawl over her shoulders, looking at the rare wilderness. You could not find such marshes and meadows anymore in the lavish Halls of today's society. She revelled in walking and thinking. Rarely did Mr. Fowler join her and when he did he needed her hand as support and he could but sit in a chair by the terrace. They talked of trivial things that made them both feel at ease.

Mary had started to pity him and did not think so bad of him, seeing his miserable condition. He was a very lonely man.

He told her of his plans to make a wonderful park in these wild gardens but she wished he did not.

'Nature is most beautiful when she is left at her work. You have here a great specimen of wonder…' she mused.

'I suppose so…if you wish it not to be gone then it shan't. I never cared for grooming. All I want is peace…think you I'll ever have it?'

'Peace?'

'Yes. Peace in my soul, if I do have one.'

'You ought to have one,' Mary said smiling. 'But in order to acquire peace you must amend for your mistakes.'

'I have tried all these years, but every time I commit a new error,' he said downcast. 'Since…I am no gentleman per se. I do not follow the common rule, I much rather go by instinct and dabble in what I can, making no use with my life, having…no real purpose.'

'Well, that is quite bad, if you ask me, Sir. You need to find a motivation for your deeds,' she said pensively.

'I suppose you know better than me, Miss Bennet, what you are to do with your life.'

'Indeed, I do not,' Mary said laughing sadly. 'I do not.'

'Then we are friends and understand each other,' he said smiling.

Mary remained silent.

'I do not profess to be exempted… I only remark that we are similar. But you know, Miss Bennet, I have changed. You might not believe me, but there is something that I want…more than fortune beautiful ladies and that is peace.'

'What provoked this change? I can hardly believe it was only your accident.'

'Indeed…I daresay it was you,' he said looking at her respectfully.

'Oh, do not say such a silly thing.'

'But it is true. You always puzzled me with your principles. I could never understand them, for the life of me! You could have succumbed a great deal of men by using the common female tricks but you never seemed to have this goal. I could never guess what your purpose was, that is why I say we are similar. Your innocence amused me, but it reminded me of my mistakes and my remonstrance came without my noticing. I do not intend to say you have marked me so that I am as good as a priest, heavens no! I only…you only made me regret, Miss Bennet.'

'And…you are not used to regretting?'

'Never, 'he said sadly. 'And Miss Bennet, I only wish I could thank you properly, but I do not know how and I fear your unconscious help shall make me think too much for the rest of my life…'

'How so, Sir?'

'You see…I have left some things undone and I have not the heart to encounter them anymore.'

'But you must, Sir! You must do your duty, no matter what. Only then, will Providence have mercy on you, when you have tried your best,' Mary insisted.

'Oh, how can I repair anything I have done?' he said more to himself.

'I say you should. I will not forgive you, unless you do what you must,' she said nodding her head firmly.

Something like a shadow passed behind his eyes, but he felt a bit of hope nevertheless.

* * *

In the mean time, James Prowler had been acquainted with the terrible tragedy and had come to convey some help to the poor Bennets. The funeral had come and past, both Lydia and Mary unable to attend on account of the weather and the impossibility of any news to be given and it was a sordid affair, with Jane and Elizabeth crying on their husbands' shoulders and Kitty and the Colonel commiserating with poor Mr. Bennet who was quite devastated.

He felt very guilty for the beloved woman's death and felt that the irony of fate was cruel; he had improved in health and his wife was six feet in the cold ground.

His biggest regret was having uttered those horrid words to her, in those crucial moments when his resilience and calm had been needed the most. His heart ached for the one that had made his life more colourful all those years. Helen had never deserted him but he had left her, he had not given her enough credit for all her toils and hardships.

No matter how much his daughters tried to comfort him, his heart remained unsettled and would always be, until his own end.

When James heard Mary was in Derbyshire, tending to Mr. Fowler, unaware of the suffering of her family, he at first had a wicked instinct to leave her in the dark, to punish her for her impudence and boldness, but at length he offered to bring her back to Rosings, feeling once more he had to keep her from Fowler or anything that could stain her character.

He left the following morning and had a tedious and murky trip, something no man would have embarked on had he not a clear purpose. He arrived four days later than the esteemed time and he rushed to the Wobles.

Hearing from the Mrs. Woble that she was at Huntington he directed his horse towards the stout house on the dark, rainy hills.

When he arrived there he found the place quite deserted, wild and unkempt that seemed to house no visitor.

He knocked at the doors and was welcomed by a young boy who let him inside and told him that Mr. Fowler was resting and that he could not be disturbed.

'Is a Miss Mary Bennet here?'

'Mary? Oh yes, Sir, missus is a very nice lady! She comes every day and makes us all happy with her singin'. She is walkin' in the gardens.'

James nodded gratefully as the young boy led him to the terrace, from which he could see the figure of a young girl picking up some plants.

His heart started beating hard, remembering how he had left her on the stairs and how it seemed that years had passed from that moment.

At the same time he felt it was too soon to face her, but he could not back down now. He could not lie to himself, he had come to take her back, but he had come to see her, had he not?

He did not know his reasons, for she had refused him and slandered him most injuriously. He did not know what drew him in now. Perhaps it was this very injury.

He walked towards her, thinking on the right words to use to let her know of her mother's death. He had come with grievous news.

'Miss Bennet.'

Mary jumped up hastily, scared and baffled at the same time as she saw James next to her, in the garden.

'You…Mr. Prowler! What are you doing here?'

'Enjoying the wonderful scenery of course,' he said casually.

'Oh, do be serious! You have business in Derbyshire?'

'Quite so and I have come to see you. I must say I admire your fortitude and kindness, coming here to take care of a man who has…jilted you,' he said mockingly.

'Well,' Mary said getting red, 'it is none of your business. You have come here too, though I…' she said searching for words.

'Rejected me?' he said coldly. 'It is not as if this is secrecy, Miss Bennet. And feel at ease, I do not intend to torment you with any other proposal. I do not wish to mar the plans of such an occupied lady.'

'Occupied lady? I see you are still upset.'

'Not at all! I am quite happy we have settled that small affair between us, Miss Bennet. I offered my kindness and situation to protect you, you chose a very independent and spirited path that I am sure will be written down in some worthy book.'

'You mock me again. But you shall know I do not intend to marry…unless it is a mutual connection of affection,' she said blushing.

'Oh, now do spare me your romantic considerations. I am sure a female company would be more advised to hear them.'

'I do not care what you think of me.'

'Yes, you think me such an awful character, suppositions you have made of course based on your own discovering,' he said smiling bitterly.

'If you have come here to accuse me…'

'No, Miss Bennet. I have come on a sad affair, I'm afraid.'

'A sad affair?' she said paling. 'Oh, goodness, papa! What has happened to him? Tell me quick. You have news from him?'

'Your father is in steady health, but I am afraid your mother…'

'My mother?! She has come down ill?'

'She…has had a terrible accident, Miss Bennet.'

'Terrible accident?' she exclaimed. 'But she is alright I suppose?'

He looked out in the horizon, refusing to meet her eye.

'Mr. Prowler! Is she alright?' she asked again.

He did not answer, only shook his head, looking down.

'Oh…' Mary whispered. 'She…she is not?'

Tears started swelling up in her eyes, fresh new tears, sprinkling her youthful face once more. She placed a hand over her mouth, sobbing painfully.

'Surely you do not mean…' she tried to speak.

James could not stand to see women cry and throw a fit in front of him. He felt her pain and wished he could comfort her in any way, but he just looked at her, with her cheeks wet and her eyes red, her hair down her shoulders, black and lifeless, as if she was a widow. And he found her pretty, against his better judgement.

'I am so sorry, Miss Bennet…' he said touching her hand slightly.

'Let me be…you are…you are not sorry,' she said through tears.

'What makes you say such a thing?'

'You…you come here and mock me and smirk at me and then tell me…tell me this! You are horrid, Sir.'

'What would you have me do?' he said exasperated. 'Do you think it is an easy ordeal to tell you this? Do you think I left you there and was perfectly comfortable with my situation? Do you think I did not think of your pain when I would tell you?'

'Then why did _you_ come?' she said spitefully.

'Well, I…' he said trying to say something. 'Others could not attend, there was no time, there was much to do…and I felt obliged…'

She sighed and turned from him.

'And…I wanted to see you,' he added reluctantly.

'Why? I humiliated you,' she said still crying.

'I have been humiliated before by lesser a person.'

'You come here and think I would fall at your feet begging forgiveness,' she said turning to him.

'I would not expect that! I came to take you to Rosings.'

'Oh you would! You are so proud and scheming!'

'Miss Bennet, I may be what you will in your mind, but I…'

Mary was now quite angry and wanted to tell him everything, confess all her troubles.

'Oh, you are not in my mind but a proud, crafty man. I do not know what your intentions are but you have never given me reason to trust you,' she said flushing.

'Oh, you are a man of letters!' she continued. 'You have made your future and your career, because you had opportunity…'

'If I had had half the chances you did, I would have been your superior in study and profession,' she said pointing her finger in his chest accusingly. 'I would not have been stuck with…'

James took her fingers in his hand and before she could protest pulled her at his side and kissed her.


	31. Chapter 31

_**Hi everyone, I'm back from another hibernation period and I concocted this little chapter which I hope you will enjoy. I actually put a lot of raw feelings into it. Anyway, I'd like to thank the anonymous reviewers for their kind words.**_

_**ixi-shaj: thanks a lot! I'm glad you liked the ending and my style. **_

_**queen: so happy you like my story and are interested in it:)**_

_**free thinker: really flattered that my story is among your favourites and really glad it keeps your interest up. James has many issues indeed but he's kind of like Mary, in some aspects, so they will both solve their issues together. He sees in her something that is in himself as well but for the moment he is in denial about it, somewhat. Since Mary brings out the worst and best in him he is sometimes brutally honest to her, which isn't always charming.  
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_**That being said, please tell me what you think, good or bad, I always appreciate it.**_

_**P.S. If you want to see a pic of Mary and James (the way I see them) just click on my profile and you'll find the link there. **_

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Chapter 31: Wicked Minds Embrace

Young ladies in general are very fond of kissing when no one is apt to see them. If these pleasant occurrences should be displayed in public they will immediately profess innocence and utter perversity on the part of the young man.

Young ladies bred in the society of old matrons find it difficult to adjust to the simple kiss after marriage and ladies of fortune do not even dream of romances that involve touching.

But in the unkempt garden, devoid of any audience to see them, Mary and James were not uneasy and continued their kiss.

They did not suspect who was watching them carefully from a secret, little window.

It did not last too long, however, because the young lady opened her eyes and became aware of the crass incivility at hand and pulled away from the young man that had earlier insulted her better feelings.

'How shameful! You take advantage of me,' she whispered hoarsely. 'I ought to banish you from my sight.'

'I am profusely apologetic, Miss Bennet. I do not understand what current of feelings took over me…' he replied, half-ashamed, half-satisfied in his freakish being that he had implanted such a proof of power over her. He knew he had come to take her back to Rosings, but his heart dictated that he had come back for this one moment of selfish fulfilment as well.

He shouldn't have let his fiery feelings get the better of him, but now…it was too late. He had wanted to make her cower, but he hadn't wanted to exact so much…

'This is a disgrace for me. I cannot begin to describe the impertinence of your act,' Mary cried defensively, drawing her shawl over her shoulders, though her words sounded anything but firm and convincing.

'I am very much sorry, Miss Bennet.'

'You are sorry…what shall I do with your excuses?' she countered, but she felt weaker and weaker, their kiss having put a mark on her, a very strong one.

'Perhaps accept them. I do care for your welfare, Mary…'

She raised her eyes startled, for he had called her Mary.

Mary did not wait for her cheeks to burn but walked towards the terrace and into the room, dreading the danger of bursting into tears in front of him.

He followed her promptly and at length were both seated by the fire.

'Miss Bennet…'

'I am in no want of conversation,' she replied sternly as she stared into the fire morosely.

'My behaviour towards you was undeserving. My anger blinded me and made me err, but I have not come to torment you with my old proposal and I do not wish to renew it. I am here for your mother,' he said trying to masque his feelings.

'How very kind of you! I suppose your _passion _stemmed out of the concern for my family's wellbeing.'

'No. I was only trying to make you cower. My pride was hurt. Yours I believe is intact. It is a shame you have no way of shrinking it; it will cause you a great deal of trouble in the future.'

'You need not worry on my case,' Mary mumbled sadly. 'How did my poor mother perish?'

James recounted all the events that led to the tragedy and by the end of his story Mary was almost in tears again, but kept her steadiness all throughout their discourse, sighing with pain at the events that unfolded in front of her eyes.

What macabre games life played sometimes! First her poor father was on death's bed, but now, in order for him to be kept alive, her own mother was taken to the sky. Was it fair? What was God's rule? What was His logic?

She had always thought she saw a bit of His designs in the scriptures, she had always felt she could understand faith, but now she was at a loss.

After so much sorrow, could she trust Him anymore? After so much injustice, could she believe…He ruled over the world in justice and in love?

_Dreadful weather in spring…_her mother had last said before kissing her forehead.

And now she was in pain, pain for her mother and for her stormy heart. She had loved her mother and she loved Mr. Prowler. He was standing in front of her, all mockery having left his face, yet in her twisted thoughts she liked him better when he jested. At least his mirth would make her smile. It was a ray of light and warmth in the cold rain. Even if it pricked her own core and made her furious with herself.

But he might never know that she loved him. She had refused him. She did what her mind had ordained her, not her heart. And now he would scorn her forever. Yet he had kissed her. Perhaps it was a parting word, perhaps it was his vendetta and perhaps it was the beginning of a new disappointment. How could she know?

'She had a tormented demise…' she spoke sadly. 'She was a kind-hearted woman, she deserved much better.'

A servant girl appeared at the door, concern on her face.

'Master has been a'calling you Missus.'

'Thank you Prudence,' she whispered. 'Do not tell him of this young man's visit, it would only unquiet him.'

James looked at her with considerable resentment but held his tongue.

After Prudence left, she rose.

'I would better put on my black attire,' she said hoarsely.

'When shall you be ready to take your leave with me?' he asked.

'I will have to discuss this with Mr. Fowler as well…'

'What does the_ gentleman_ demand? This is your family's call,' he remarked slightly rebuked.

'He has the right to know I am to leave in any case since I have been by his side these days…' Mary replied, flushing.

'I cannot understand how your family left you in the company of such a man. I wonder at them not persuading you to dwell in his own house! But Mrs. Woble is no better as I know her!'

'Do not be ever so heard on Mr. Fowler for you know him not and remember you have your own sins,' Mary chided him, though her voice failed her again.

'I might know him better than you Miss Bennet. And it is not safe for you to stay here.'

'My own dear mother encouraged me so fervently to come…' Mary whispered a ghost of a smile resting on her face. 'If the weather had been fairer I would have probably received the letters and could have joined my mama on her last journey to her grave…'

'If you keep her always in your heart it might do better,' he replied softly. 'We must depart however.'

'When?'

'As soon as tomorrow morning.'

'I shall be ready…'

* * *

That evening, Mary sat in bed thinking of her mother and the happy times they had spent together. She had wanted to tell her so much more before she ever saw her again. She hadn't wished to quarrel so many times, she had wanted to know her better perhaps…

Only now did she discover that while her father was not so much of a mystery to her anymore, her mama always has and always will be. She hadn't inquired much of her youth and her upbringing, for Mrs. Bennet always fled from such subjects, but now she wished she had insisted more.

Mrs. Helen Bennet had been a woman known by few. Her husband had not loved her half as he had professed and her daughters had always tried her patience and made her sigh with either joy or pain.

Did Mary have a place in her mother's heart? Maybe she loved all her daughters differently.

She remembered Kitty's wedding and how her fussing had turned them all mad with impatience, but how looking back on it, her general behaviour had been a relief in the midst of all that commotion and seriousness. Her antics never ceased to make her smile or laugh, for she was a presence that lit the room, whether she intended to or not. Mayhaps her light was not the brightest but it was a soft, glimmering light of mirth.

Her mother had always been herself. She had always acted as herself no matter the consequences, even though she was ridiculed or cast down for it. And she realised with stupor that her mother had done this unconsciously.

And she envied her for it.

She had never felt truly at ease with her own mind while her mother had always been nothing more or less than Helen Bennet. And for the first time, Mary Bennet admired her mama for who she had been. What distressed her more is that she only discovered this after her mother's death. Had she understood this better during her life perhaps their living together would have greatly improved.

Children always think they are misjudged or mistreated or wronged. But mothers and fathers, can they protest?

Mary felt ashamed, for she had always blamed her mother and never herself.

Her misguidance in life had been her own making, never her mother's but she had sought comfort in putting the blame on someone else.

The truth was, Mary Bennet had failed without anyone's assistance.

And she had failed to truly live, until now. She had always followed her conventions and principles, but for what reasons? Pride, arrogance, vanity?

Who knew? She barely knew herself. She wanted to believe she followed ethics because she wanted to be a decent, kind woman and not wrong in front of God, but was that truly her design?

Was it that she tried so hard at times simply because she felt inferior in looks, countenance and manners and had to supply other attributes to her being?

Yes. Her gruelling attempts at feeding her mind and spirit, educating herself, studying and playing the piano had been part pleasure, part necessity.

And now she loathed that "necessity" which had made her be who she was for the wrong reasons. She only wanted knowledge because she loved the world around her, because she loved life and all it had to offer, because she wanted to understand herself and others, because she derived joy in it…not because she wanted to make up for some inferiority complex driven by vanity.

Oh, how she had erred in so many things! And she guessed this wouldn't be her last err.

* * *

The next morning she was all packed and ready to be off with Mr. Prowler, who was waiting outside the gates of the little parish house.

A certain talk between Mary and Mr. Fowler had taken place before her departure but we shall leave it to be unravelled for a later time, when Mr. Fowler himself decides to think of it.

After so much rain and mud, the moors were dry today and the weather was calm and soothing for a journey. It seemed nature mourned with her for it was neither wild nor cheerful.

She bid farewell to the Wobles who felt quite sad to see her go. The wife expressed her wishes of her paying a visit in much happier circumstances.

'I hope you shall come again, Miss Bennet, for we sorely need company. Do pay my respects to your family and my honest condolences for the soul of your mother. And do kiss your dear sister Lydia for me. Tell her I have not forgotten our little secret,' she said smiling kindly.

_Little secret? _ Mary wondered slightly confused, but she had no time to dwell on such aspects as the carriage was ready for their departure.

After the carriage door was shut and they both found themselves in the comfort of their solitude, Mary turned towards the window and Mr. Prowler started reading some papers.

The journey started slowly but surely.

They exchanged not a word. As night fell they were to stop at an inn close by.

The rain threatened to beat upon them again.

After taking two rooms for themselves and deciding their groom was to sleep in the kitchens each retired to their chamber as no more was heard of them.

Mary lay in front of the shabby brass mirror that night, combing her tangled hair. She knew his room was down the corridor but a few steps away, but she could not believe she wished to see him now, at this woeful time!

He was ever so close but they were very far indeed. Their distance echoed in her heart and she pressed her nails in her palm, bidding her pulse to stop and her breath to end so she could think of him no more.

Why did she think he would comfort her? All he ever did was lie and upset her with his vulgar ways. He could be kind, but he rarely showed it, genuine kindness from him was never certain for it hid behind artifice.

Their times in London had been wistful, but he had always been a silent courtesan, she had never guessed his thoughts, she couldn't depend on him or trust him. As a result, he had almost tried involving her in a dangerous scheme, for the sake of a friend indeed, but caring naught for her wellbeing.

Or was it her own wounded ego that was speaking thus?

Maybe she should knock and bid him goodnight.

No, how foolish indeed! How disgraceful! What would her poor deceased mother think?

Her hair unravelled on her shoulders like cold silk. He had touched her hair when he had kissed her. She pulled it up disgusted, but then let it down again, softened.

After a long diatribe with herself she decided to pray all night long for her poor mother. She knelt by the bed and read in her mind all the prayers she knew.

'Please Merciful Lord spare my mother's soul…'

_And spare mine…_

Midnight passed in this fashion and she still had no sleep and she was glad for it.

She sat in her bed whispering sacred words, keeping her eyes shut against any temptation. But his eyes came into her mind like two balls of light and she couldn't oppose them.

Mary jumped out of bed, pulled her coat over her night gown and slipped out of her room quietly.

She found her way to the kitchen and searched for some candles. When she found none she climbed up to the withdrawing chamber, hoping to find at least worn out wicks. She desperately needed light.

But in the withdrawing room she found someone smoking by a cold fire, only the beam of some stars throwing light upon the scene.

'Pray excuse me, I am looking for some candles.'

'I have searched myself, they are no good.'

James' eyes glinted in the dark as he stood up.

'Oh…Mr. Prowler,' she swallowed, half-excited, half-scared, since her own wish at seeing him had come true.

'Why are you up at this hour?' he inquired.

'I couldn't sleep.'

'Grieving?' he asked concerned.

She blushed in the dark for it hadn't been only her mother that had not let her have peace and rest.

'Yes…that as well.'

'What else occupies your mind?'

'Why are you here?' she asked ignoring his question.

'I could not sleep either.'

'Thinking of poor Theodore?'

'Yes…that as well,' he replied in the same fashion.

'I…I am so sorry…for him and I do hope with all my heart that justice shall be made…I would like to visit him soon, if I may.'

'He would be glad to see you,' he replied.

'Oh do not lie. I hindered his plans…and his escape. I was the cause of his incarceration.'

'Do not speak so,' he said coming towards her. 'Theodore had not been a very honest man before. Both he and Morel had their share, but while the first has turned a new leaf the latter remains a scoundrel.'

'I would like him to be exposed for the corrupt man he is and pay for all the pain he inflicted,' Mary replied, angrily.

'Someday, Miss Bennet, he shall come to answer for everything…' he said standing quite close to her.

'As we shall all…when our time comes. Are you…are you afraid of it?'

'Of death?' he laughed. 'I would be mad to say no. But I have not a heavy heart.'

'You are very lucky indeed,' Mary replied a bit irritated. 'To have nothing to torment you.'

'And I suppose _you_ are tormented, Miss Bennet?'

She chose not to answer.

'Are you only wearing your coat? It can be awfully cold in these quarters,' he said lingering some moments.

'Yes, I have gathered that.'

'Well then, I bid you good night.'

He turned to leave, but before he could turn the knob she spoke.

'Wait.'

He looked at her dark figure confused.

'Do not go yet.'

'Why not?'

She approached him shyly and before he could say anything she put her arms round his neck and embraced him shortly.

To her slight surprise and pleasure he immediately placed his arms round her waist and held her to him tightly.

They held on to each other for what felt like an eternity. She was not crying or sighing, but she was finally coming to grips with her mother's death. She sorely needed this. Her mother's face flashed before her eyes and she gripped him tighter. He in return pulled her even closer, trying to get at her soul.

She felt relief like never before to see she still loved her mother. And her love for him was there…hidden and aching.

He buried his head in her hair and breathed in, feeling a strange peace come over him, as if he was wrapped in a cocoon.

Nothing and no one could tear them apart, they felt so close in nature and in feeling, as if the strings attached to their hearts were tangled between them in a Gordian knot.

And neither of them had to utter a word for the moment to last forever. It was nothing erotic, nothing that eluded to love of the flesh, but only two haunted spirits melted in one another.

He dreamt of a land she belonged to. She saw her waving to him from afar, beckoning him to a free world he had sometimes envisioned in his dreams, but never before had it been this close.

Yet his reason protested. Did he really love her? This feeling that shook his being, of belonging, was it really love or was it only a fleeting sensation that would pass come morning?

She had humiliated him and hurt him in his very core, for his pride valued a great deal to him. She had refused him, so why then was she accepting him in her embrace now?

He had not asked her to marry her because he loved her. He only wanted to protect her since he had found delicate porcelain to keep from dust.

Yet…she had wanted to marry for love. He knew it now too well. Had he offended her by trying to have her marry for comfort?

All these feelings overwhelmed him until he couldn't think anymore.

He had not loved her when he had asked for her hand.

He had not loved her when he had kissed her, eager to take his revenge. He had only felt his fiery passion overwhelm him in an unorthodox way but he had not felt her close. He had only relished in the bittersweet taste of her chaste lips, his victory over the lamb.

But in just a moment, his entire vengeance collapsed, his entire scheme, his plans, his opinion that she should apologize, that she should be made humble, that she should suffer her ungratefulness, that_ he_ should be the one to pity her misfortune, all these vanished when her arms encircled him. For this one embrace made him feel more than a hundred stormy kisses.

He had thought of her tonight, suffering in her small room, hoping she would be tormented by the kiss. In his wild and horrid selfishness he put even death behind and relished only in his immature pain.

He wanted her to cry tears of regret indeed. She had been right to suppose he had come to seek that, to _have_ just that. But his own warnings had been right when he had asked himself why he had come to being with. For he had not come only for revenge and that tormented him more than she would ever be tormented by the kiss.

He wanted her to beg him to accept her and then he would steely refuse.

That is what he had concocted, that is what he had hoped.

But maybe there was something else that he hoped for.

Grief for her mother's death had softened his selfish, cruel heart and this sudden balm of affection, this caress of a sad mind that yearned for his own troubled one, made him relent in his taste for vindication, made him steady the dagger and aim it towards his own heart.

She was almost defeating him, rather than he her.

Her hair so soft and so warm was gliding over his lips and he saw that he wouldn't mind at all if she were his wife.

Mary herself let her mind go blank and felt his warm skin next to hers, feeling the blood course through him.

He slowly parted her hair with one hand and felt the skin of her neck with his lips.

At length he spoke, waking them both.

'Mary…dear Mary, you are but a child…'

She gasped and tried pulling away but he held her tight, not even letting her breathe.

'And perhaps this is what I seek.'


	32. Chapter 32

**Hi everyone! New chapter finally up. I want to thank all of you for staying with my story and for the wonderful reviews! Thanks a bunch _ixi-shaj_ for the kind words and thank you _free thinker_ for the praise, I'm really glad you like the characters and their imperfect way of being. Thanks again for reading all of you. Hope you like it!  
**

Chapter 32: A failure and an engagement

The carriage shook them as they held hands silently, almost as if their tender gesture replaced the words needed in these cases. They were both looking in opposite directions, sitting one next to the other but his hand was clamped over hers. No one would have noticed it, for Mary had dropped her shawl on the seat between them. Their arms ended under the warm shawl, but their lives continued underneath.

When they were near Kent they let go without even acknowledging the gesture.

After accompanying her to the Bingley estate where all the family was residing now, he would not even stay for talks with Charles or tea. He rode away, straight to London, worried on account of his affairs and his friend, Theodore. He bid no word of adieu.

Mary was left rather wretched on the doorstep, wondering what she had done wrong to deserve such a cold goodbye from one she had held the night before. She reasoned though, that they were not animated friends that had forgotten each other's faulty deeds and were now rejoicing in the merriment of courtship. No, nothing was further from the truth. Their Platonic relation was founded on the understanding of each other in the end. She understood his ways, he understood hers. She decided she would go to church that afternoon to pray a while and ask forgiveness for the tempting kiss.

The hypocrisy of the gesture consisted in her inability to repent for having allowed the kiss. But it was omitted from her thoughts that were full of nostalgic pain for her mother.

After having received a marriage proposal, news of an unforeseeable death and a kiss, she thought nothing could disconcert her anymore. But something very small did. Her family had almost cried tears of joy to see her back among them, something which was not only a rare event for her, but also quite unprecedented in the almost twenty years of her life.

She was not used to so much affection. Now that the pivot of the family had perished, the girls and the father clung to each other like peas in a pod.

And now that Mary, who was the more sensible (for Jane was upset and in bed on account of her child and Lizzy was in much need for solace) had come to comfort them they felt better at being united.

Kitty and the Colonel spent their days in a very laborious way, or at least the latter did, for Kitty had found out that the Colonel used to write verses for his amusement and leisure and was now demanding his assistance in writing a beautiful eulogy for her mother that would be written on her gravestone.

Mr. Bennet was fasting day in, day out. He would not eat or drink, he would only sit by the window and sigh. Talking to him got one nowhere. He would occasionally write letters to his wife which he put under the pillows at night, hoping she would read them.

Lydia, the petite, was more affected than most. Her sensitive and volatile temper did not stand the news of the demise of her best and kindest defender. Her misery was expressed most deliberately in letters which she sent constantly to the Bingleys, demanding they come to see her at once.

Mr. Bennet promised to oblige her and go back to Longbourn as soon as possible.

The house was mourning as well. There were black curtains at the window, black ribbons tied to the candlesticks and they used the copper crockery instead of the silver one.

The long and humorous conversations that derived from every meal were now reduced to low whispers and silent agreements.

Mary thought this longwinded veil of sorrow did not help anybody. She also thought everyone was trying to see this as a normal death. To her, this was no natural occurrence.

Now in her old chamber, with the letters of relatives and friends scattered here and there, Mary sat lounged on the bed with her face on her pillow, sleeping and waking continuously.

For some reason, she could not forget a particular conversation she had had with Mr. Fowler before departure.

She had been called in his study, the evening before she left Derbyshire.

'How are you this evening, Miss Bennet? I fare you have arranged everything for your departure.'

'Yes, I have Sir.'

'You must be feeling dreadful…' he assumed, lighting his cigar. 'I am very sorry for your loss. Little as I knew Mrs. Bennet, I never supposed a woman like her could ever perish.'

'Neither did I,' replied Mary soberly, containing any morsel of pain. 'I always thought she would outlive us all.'

'It is an amusing thing. No matter how much we try to predict and foresee, we will always be baffled by the strange nature of destiny. You assume something, you believe in it foolhardily and you are sure nothing can shake your conviction and then, when it does happen, you cannot reason with the truth. You seek solace. But you can never really find it.'

'Are these words coming from the heart?' asked Mary who was stirred by the soliloquy.

'Oh, no, it is a rendition of a passage in a book. Not faithfully rendered, mind you, therefore I could say they are my words as well.'

Mary chuckled and pulled her feet against the roaring fire in the fireplace.

'It will be hard, seeing my family now.'

'Yes, but tragedy appears to unite people more than good fortune.'

'It is this union I am not ready for.'

'Why is that so?'

'Certain events have marked me, I suppose,' she replied uneasy.

Mr. Fowler placed his hands together, as if in prayer.

'Mr. Prowler is an odd sort of man, not to my liking, I confess,' he said, his face darkening with worry and something resembling compunction.

'Mr. Prowler?' Mary asked surprised.

'He is very bold indeed to come here and profess his love, where all can see him.'

Mary blushed deeply, understanding he had seen the kiss.

'Had I not been an ill man I would have said a thing or two, but then again you are a youth Miss Bennet and youths deserve to be happy.'

'There was nothing happy in it. It was improper of me,' she protested.

'Perhaps, but we do a great deal of improper things in life, don't we? I am such a paradigm of impropriety myself. And I have changed a great deal. I've told you before. And I am afraid that from now on my nights will be weary. I am afraid of what my mind shall conceive. Thoughts will not let me sleep. You see, having a conscience is a terrible possession.'

'Should you ever come to Derbyshire again perhaps I shall be more prepared and I will have taken a decision,' he added.

'What decision is that?'

'A decision I have formed in my head a few hours ago,' he replied, not wishing to say more.

'Do please write to me about your family's welfare for I would be interested to know,' he mumbled hastily.

'I shall.'

'Mary. You have not forgiven me, have you?' he inquired testily.

Mary looked at him firmly and shook her head softly.

'No.'

* * *

James felt as easy as a feather as he stepped into dreary London. He was floating above the flotsam of the town slums and seeing them in a new light. The poverty there seemed a little kinder, life seemed freer between bedraggled children with torn shoes. The incongruous buildings seemed a little less tall. The carriage drove slowly through the streets where he had the feeling everyone was watching him.

He thought this was the beginning of a new age, because there never had been a man and woman like Mary and he were. At least, if others existed, none shared the blunt feeling of complete understanding they had. Most of them loved each other, treasured their presence and hoped to marry some day and have a warm home, but Mary and he were just glad to know each other, without the need to speak. Their connection was like nothing he had seen before. They taught each other about life constantly. He was experienced, she was not. Yet maybe that is what he needed, a little less experience.

And it was strange that they had never talked a great deal or shared a great deal of intimate accounts, and yet they still felt they knew all there was to know about one another.

But now he would better put her out of his thoughts. He had one man to think of and one only.

Theodore was looking very gaunt these days, though he kept some of the old twinkle in his eye. He first asked his friend if he knew anything of Georgiana. James felt touched by his staunch love to one little, rich girl who might not sacrifice so much for him in return.

'Have you stopped eating, my friend?' James asked worried.

'I cannot eat this stale bread, it is a stone between my teeth. I caught a rat the other day but I felt too much pity towards it,' he said tiredly. His forehead was shining through the bars.

'Are you with fever?' he inquired concerned.

'Fever for freedom, perhaps. I was never confined between sober walls. I feel out of place,' he smiled. 'Margaret's been here to see me. She has been complaining how I abandoned her. I suppose I haven't been such a good brother, have I?'

'She's a fool! You have always taken care of her. It is only that now you must take care of yourself. You know that your place is not here, that Morel should lie here and not you. I've already settled things with Mr. Darcy. I wrote to him yesterday. He shall be in London soon and we will take this to court.'

'Is he bringing Georgiana with him?'

'That is wishful thinking, my friend. Why would he bring a lady into this matter? As far as I know, Georgiana is in Bath with an aunt. But she has been called home so I suppose she shall be with her brother soon.'

'What if I never see her again? Then everything would have been in vain.'

'Pull yourself together! That won't happen. Have some faith in me.'

Theodore wished he could, but the damp air, the stale bread, the cold bones, the hard pain in his chest were making it difficult.

Mr. Darcy arrived in London as required and was welcomed at Mr. Prowler's house for the time being, before court day. They established certain arguments in court and agreed on a modest tactic of combat that would not harm Mr. Darcy or put him in danger in front of Morel.

The petition was sent to the magistrates and in a fortnight they were called at the stand.

Mr. Prowler fought tooth and nail for the case, thinking all the time of Theodore. He showed the counsellors and juries the blatant evidence of the there being forged documents against the actual documents of Mr. Darcy's property.

Mr. Morel had not bothered to attend the trial but had merely sent one of his spokesmen to deal with the matter, which was an overlooking on his part, for he knew not that James had the real documents.

The ownership papers were analysed and inspected carefully. The State Archives were applied to and the fake ownership documents were taken out and compared.

For five gruelling days the documents were debated and discussed over and over again. On the fifth day, Morel appeared in court in all his honour and wealth. He glanced over the forged documents and denied any implications. He put the blame on Mr. Buddley, the one who had sold him the property, saying Mr. Buddley had given him this "forged document", implying he had thought the document real. This, of course, was a lie. Mr. Buddley had given him the real papers and he had forged new ones. On being asked why the real papers were found in his home he said he had never known them to be there. Though farfetched, his brother, judge Laurel Morel, patched the situation by giving full rights to Mr. Darcy on the Bartley property and rendering only a sufficient sum from his brother for his inconsistent defence.

Yet it was a small victory for James, if it could be accounted.

After another fortnight, the high signature of the King was placed on the verdict of the jury and Mr. Buddley was found accused of forgery. There was an issued order to search for him throughout the country. Though Mr. Buddley had committed certain illegal deeds, surely he was not the perpetrator at hand. But for now, James could do nothing but wait for everything to unfold.

He tried to impress on the judge and the jury that it had been Theodore Stoddard who had found the documents willingly, risking his own safety to help a gentleman. This showed he had indeed turned a new leaf.

However, the court was not very sympathetic with his cause. They did consider his request of sparing Theodore's sentence, but they only agreed to shorten it by three years. They justified this decision by saying the convict still needed to pay for his lawless deeds.

That meant he would still have to serve two years in that dreaded place.

For James, this was a very hard blow. His entire success in having secured Mr. Darcy's property went to smoke. His friend would still have to suffer.

He recalled Theodore had once told him "I must atone." Maybe, this was what fate required, maybe the cleansing of his soul was necessary before stepping out of prison.

Yet, if this was true, why was he a free, sinful, unethical man? If this was Providence's punishment, why was he not punished as well?

He felt like a bad man, a bad man with no scruples. He felt he ought to be in Theodore's place. How could he redeem himself another way?

He tried to comfort himself by saying he had done his due with his relations and connections, he had helped others a great deal, he had sacrificed his peace for the Darcys. But it did not mean much to him. It was a drop in the ocean.

What was missing? What was the one act that could redeem him?

Perhaps saving Theodore was the act. But he had failed.

'You've done a good job, my friend,' Mr. Darcy comforted him, placing a hand on his shoulder as they were sitting in the carriage.

_My friend. _This he called Theodore.

And now, looking at Mr. Darcy, he saw a very tired man. As if he had aged over night. The problems at home had brought this change about. And Mr. Prowler was sorry to see such a gentleman in a weak position.

That night, before he came home he went to buy some cigars. When he stepped inside his house, he found it quite devastated. Mrs. Lemond was nowhere to be found. His chests of drawers were broken and lying in pieces on the landing. Down the winding stairs he saw ripped documents and papers. His pianoforte was missing and a lot of silvery and porcelain had gone too. Luckily, he had not much wealth or possessions to boast, therefore he did not feel the emptiness too heavily.

But it was a warning from a dangerous man. A warning he would pay heed to.

* * *

When Mr. Darcy returned to Kent he was a relieved man. Though weary and silent, he was ready to bring his wife good news and perhaps alleviate her pain.

They were planning to stay there for another fortnight, until Jane gave birth.

The Bingley household was numerous indeed, now that both families dwelt there, but the atmosphere was peaceful and content.

Or, at least it _had_ been peaceful for the past couple of days.

However, right on the day of Mr. Darcy's arrival, there came a fateful letter addressed to Lizzie and her husband. It was from Georgiana.

She was announcing her engagement to Mr. Bancroft.

-

-

-

Special Note: Hi again! For those of you who have forgotten who **Jonathan Bancroft** is, you need only turn to Chapter 18: _A fair wedding part 2_ and read about him if you like. He is joined by his sister at Kitty's wedding as the Colonel's guests. And a hint that Mr. Bancroft had some intentions towards Georgiana, though small one:

"_From time to time Mr. Bancroft would glance furtively at Georgiana then look quickly away. Mary noticed this and was about to inquire of it, but at that moment a group of youths reached their table."_

Excerpt from Chapter 18.

Well, you shall find out more about them in the following chapter. Thanks for reading.


	33. Chapter 33

**And here is the new chapter. This one, to warn you from the start, is about Georgiana. Finally, we're getting in her head to see the ifs and whys. Now, bear with me through this long chapter. We learn about her childhood, about Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham a little bit, Mr. Bancroft and...once again Georgiana!**

**I'd like to thank_ ixi-shaj_ and _Quiz_ for their reviews. To answer ixi-shaj, Georgiana doesn't exactly quit on Theodore, it's something else per se. You'll find out if you read:)**

**Thanks for the big support everyone! This story wouldn't exist without you.  
**

Chapter 33: The happy girl (who was sad)

Mary, above all, was the most inclined to be shocked by the news. She, who had witnessed the love and cherishment between the two lovers, was at a loss for words in front of this travesty of good feelings. Georgiana's fretting and Theodore's longing both assured Mary it must be some misunderstanding.

Therefore, she diligently wrote back to Georgiana, asking her the circumstances of this wondrous engagement. She received no reply, which only obfuscated her more.

Mr. Darcy, however, was the least to show surprise in the matter. Though he appeared to be put out, he was not quite as remarkably astonished as the others. His account of it was that Mr. Bancroft and Georgiana were old friends and companions and that the young boy had always harboured sisterly feelings for her. Now they had developed into something more.

He took exception to Georgiana doing this in secret without telling him, in such a wild, uncouthly fashion, but there was some strange relief in the event. He knew very well his sister nurtured some feelings for a certain young man.

James Prowler had visited Mr. Darcy some time ago when he was still in Kent, to describe to him the situation of his friend and tell him of Theodore's considerable part in helping Darcy with his unsolved affairs. He had mentioned that his deliverance would make a young lady very happy. He made it clear that this young lady was close to Darcy; therefore Fitzwilliam looked into the matter.

He only later discovered that the young scoundrel Georgiana had met and felt infatuated with in Bath was the same Theodore Stoddard, the luckless thief. He remembered how last autumn he had adamantly scolded her for her inattentiveness and lack of care, for her naiveté at believing this new fellow who lived on the streets could treasure her for anything else than her fortune.

His discovery only produced more consternation, since he suspected Georgiana had somehow kept in touch with him, despite his warnings. He had to concede that perhaps he had not been entirely right about this young man and that, unlike Wickham, he could change and become wholesome once more, but being indebted to him was one thing and romancing with his sister was another. He could not allow the second without a deep set frown.

Liberal and just as he may be, this was real life and in real life people like Georgiana and Theodore rarely found happiness together. What would the world say, how would they condemn Georgiana for marrying a convict, a fortuneless young man of no purpose? And how would he fare as the unconscious brother who had let her degrade herself so?

No, it was inconceivable. He had engaged her in conversation on the matter the following day. There was no escape for her, she was much too sensitive and easily wounded not to deliver the truth and the truth was that their romance had continued under her brother's nose. A heated argument ensued which lasted for more than three days resulting in Georgiana's departure to Bath.

Therefore, you see, Darcy had no reason to be too shocked by the piece of news.

His wife, Elizabeth, felt somewhat piqued that her sister-in-law had chosen such a moment to announce an engagement, her mother not being yet cold in the grave.

The rest of the family thought it a very curious, bizarre affair. Kitty did not shrink from calling it quite "wild" and that she had never expected her sister-in-law to be so inclined to novelty. Now that she was a married woman she thought herself very mature and experienced. She no longer remembered her own inclinations to novelty.

Yet the real mystery was Mr. Bancroft for he was the unknown character everyone sought to know. Only Colonel Fitzwilliam could give an account of him and to him everyone applied. His very favourable impression of him earned the family's good opinion. They trusted the Colonel to judge a good character. Most of them now awaited to meet him to verify his character.

Mary was the only one in a quandary. As an intimate friend of Georgiana she could not imagine what had driven her friend to such lengths.

Quizzical as this engagement was to her, the reader must understand how different Georgiana and Mary were in perceptions and principles. And their social circumstances could not be more different as well.

***

Perhaps Mary Bennet, who despite her frustration, had enjoyed a certain sense of liberty and independence from her family, did not understand Miss Darcy, a young girl who had not been let to have a mind of her own, or at least not let to express it too often.

What happens indeed to a young girl of seven when her mother dies?

She is given to the care of a governess.

What is there to be done when there is no governess?

Georgiana Darcy had been a very stubborn, complaining child. She would sometimes throw fits of agony and cry and yell until everything was done as her will demanded.

But that was a very long time ago. She had been very much affected by her mother's death.

She drove every governess away with her gruesome misbehaviour. It was not that Miss Darcy could not behave but she would not.

Her father, a busy man who had no time for her, barely saw her and kept occupied with his son. She had had all the attention of her mother before. Now she was the centre of no one's attention. This fatal wound to her heart made her act as she did.

She was chided, scolded, locked in her room, even flogged, but nothing would induce her to relent and be a good child.

She ran amok into the woods of the estate and liked best to stay with the low servants in the kitchen. This situation prolonged itself until she turned eleven.

That was when her father died. This second tragedy she dealt with better.

In fact, she barely even felt it. When the news came to her, she was sleeping and she continued her sleep. When she woke up and felt the death sink in she cried for a while, simply because she thought she ought to. She prayed a little and in a week or two forgot about it.

When her brother came home from his studies he found her swimming with her clothes on in the lake.

He had come down to the lake and had bid her come out and get dressed and welcome him home from a long absence. She was now almost fourteen.

Georgiana was more familiar with her brother than with her father. He often came to see her, if only to wish her good night or play chess with her. She was not fond of him, but she liked him well enough to smile briefly when he approached the banks.

'I have come, sister. And yet I find you here, stark and wet. Is this any way to welcome me?'

'I thought you did not need me to welcome yourself on your estate.'

'After such a long time this is what you say to me?'

'Well, it's not as if we know each other well enough.'

'I think we know each other enough to be polite to each other. What kind of future lady behaves this way?'

'Well…I am only swimming. You needn't be alarmed,' she explained in a childish way, hiding behind a large fern.

'Not only is this highly improper but someone might see you. What would they say then? That the fair Miss Darcy is a country girl?'

'I do not care so much, I suppose,' she said, uncertain of her words. She did care maybe a little, she thought. But if she cared she wanted not to care.

'Won't you come out then? I shall show you some presents I bought for you in Cambridge.'

'Is there anything to buy in Cambridge?' she asked curious. 'I never thought there was.'

'I have bought you something very beautiful indeed. Something you will surely like.'

'Then…I might come out and see it,' she said smiling.

She slowly climbed up the banks. She was wearing her woollen frock. She pulled over a small dress and went to meet her brother. She looked very much dishevelled. Almost as if she was a lady of the streets.

But instead of her brother's warm words, she encountered something quite different.

He grasped her hand by her wrist tightly and pulled her with him towards the house.

'Aaa! It hurts me! What are you doing?'

'You are coming with me.'

The carriage was waiting in front of the mansion. He gently pushed her in, if one can say that and bid the groom to drive away.

'What is the meaning of this?' she asked half-scandalized, half-afraid.

'I'm taking you on a little trip,' he replied curtly.

When they arrived in town, the carriage stopped in front of the church. He stepped down and made her climb down as well.

There was quite a crowd in the town square. Merchants and horses, old wives and their daughters, factory workers and young boys playing some flutes.

Fitzwilliam pushed her upfront.

'Kind folk hear me, for I am Fitzwilliam Darcy.'

Some stopped half-way through their toils to look at him surprised. Others stopped completely and averted their attention to him. All of them stared waiting. Only the boys kept playing their flutes.

One old lady bowed to him and saluted him but he ignored her.

'This is a servant of mine. I keep her in my house. Today, she has slandered me deeply. She has sinned and stained my house,' he said pointing at Georgiana.

She looked a dreadful sight. Her hair was untamed, dirty and almost black from the water. Her sallow, angry little face showed discontent and fear. Her clothes were torn or wet and her hands and feet were muddy.

Yes, they could all believe she was a servant.

Georgiana Darcy had never gone out in society, therefore people had no idea what she looked like or who she was.

'I am discharging her and leaving her in front of the church so that God might take her in His kind hands and maybe expiate her.'

They all stared at her judgingly. Some women started whispering loudly, things she could hear, words that made her shudder and turn with shame. They said she must be with child and that she must have sold herself for a small price. They pointed their fingers at her. The old men shook their heads.

The boys winked at her and some of the more pious factory men told her she should repent before it was not too late.

The old lady who had saluted Darcy glared at her and told her she did not deserve such a good family.

'Pooh! You little wench, you little wench!'

Georgiana blinked in shock. She put her hands in her hair and stomped her foot.

'How can you believe such gruesome falsehoods my brother entertains? He is quite mad! I am Georgiana Darcy, heiress of Pemberley!'

They all chuckled pityingly. The laughter and snigger made her angrier.

'How can you believe it?! I am Georgiana Darcy! I am!'

'Then prove it young lass!' one of the men said mockingly.

'She's mad, isn't she?'

Tears welled up in her eyes and she covered her tiny body with her hands.

The carriage had already driven away. It had stopped outside of town.

Georgiana ran away from the crowd who was trying to bring her into the church and she found her brother's carriage.

'Do you wish something from me?' he asked.

'I'd like to get in.'

'My sister should get in.'

'I am your sister. I…I want to prove to them I am Georgiana Darcy,' she said looking down. There was repent in her voice, but there was also hidden hate.

'Do you really want that?'

'Yes.'

She was driven back to Pemberley and they never spoke of it again.

From that day on the house turned into a haven of silence and peace. The calmness that floated over everything was merely temporary.

Georgiana turned into a very quiet, withdrawn, odd creature. She had not been very loud to begin with but she had enjoyed making fun and mocking the things around her. Now she stood silently in her room, stitching or embroidering or dreaming sadly at her window. She tore every cushion she finished and started all over again.

Her brother had spoken the truth; he had bought her an exquisite gift; the beautiful pianoforte. She had lessons every day. The teacher was very hard on her and beat her fingers with a small, wicker stick whenever she made a mistake.

Whenever she showed signs of rebellion and her anger flared up her brother reminded her that this was not the behaviour of a Darcy and that he would take her out again and this time he would leave her alone, in town.

Eventually, she came to love the pianoforte. And she sat in her bed at night and kissed her swollen fingers and enjoyed to see them bleed from hard practice. The keys were the feelings she was towering over. There was the silent hate, the love for something she didn't know, something she was waiting for, a love she would soon give, there was grief, there was selfishness and there was an acute sense of inferiority. She was proud but she felt ugly, she was vain but she felt awkward. She did not like her hair, she did not like her eyes, she liked her long, slender fingers.

And when she looked in the mirror she saw the town laughing and the brother holding her shoulders, whispering he wanted her to be a true lady. He told her he wanted her to be happy.

Though she always kept the hidden resentment for her brother, they slowly became friends. Not very intimate ones, but surely friends who could care for each other. She played for him, he read for her. They reached this mutual agreement that in the absence of their parents they were now and would always be the masters of this estate. She was a lady and he was a gentleman.

Sometimes he showed his brotherly affection and she received it half-heartedly. She never responded, she nodded and smiled and pleased him. But her soul was heavy. She liked her brother, how could she not? And yet she almost hated him sometimes.

When Mr. Wickham came into her life in the shape of a suitor, the picture was so silent and dreary, that he became a beam of hope to her. Her brother didn't much approve this affection, therefore she strove to please him more, play better and be a humbler lady so that he might allow her this small happiness.

Mr. Darcy did not have anything against their union if he harboured honest feelings for her and cherished her as she truly deserved. He was an old family friend that had always been close to the late Mr. Darcy. Georgiana had known little of him before when she was very young. She had been far too preoccupied with herself to notice. But now that he strode in as the romantic, passionate knight, her eyes no longer saw anything in the world but Mr. Wickham's handsome face.

They spent many happy hours together. She would make flower coronets and wear them while they shared chaste kisses under some lonely beech.

The hills of Derbyshire could not contain their feelings, or perhaps, her feelings.

She read poetry to him, poetry she had hated before. And he told her that her pretty eyes were lovely in summer. She grew to love summer.

But then he jilted her and ran away when he discovered he could not have her fortune. The pain she had to endure, the misery and fever she suffered for months were nothing compared to the seething anger she felt.

He had charmed her, made love to her with words, made her believe in a very different world, a world where they could live together without rules and horrid wicker sticks, without family and relatives, a world of their own, full of exotic places and large ships crossing the wide blue seas. She would hold his hand over the vastness of life and he would hold hers.

He had made her feel wanted and she had last felt this feeling with her mother. But he had just toyed with her, he had mocked her, she had been the object of his advancement and amusement.

It was all a sad little ruin from which she couldn't get up.

Not one man, but two had prevailed over her and trodden over her feelings.

The first, no matter how loving now, had sealed his fate by making her the subject of derision. The second had made her derision itself.

Now, I would like you to guess what was in her soul. She might want revenge and independence, maybe freedom, maybe a life of her own.

But now, in this stage of her life, Georgiana felt more acutely than ever that she was lost and hopeless. She laughed loudly and played from day to night on the pianoforte, she went to small dinner parties and gossiped with the girls and even told some she would like to kiss a stranger. She was almost unhinged.

So she fell in the happy arms of Theodore, thinking he would either be like them or be different, but she would not care and she would let herself feel any sort of love, be it a lie or a trick.

And she was surprised to find a good man in him. She was surprised to find a very big soul, a soul without reason and meaning, but a very big soul. And she had cherished that above all things.

She turned her pain into infatuation and decided she would do anything to make this connection last.

But now the world seemed against her; her brother, the law, the world, maybe even God.

She had wanted to escape this house, this brother, but Theodore was imprisoned, he could not save her and she could not have him.

Georgiana knew well enough she couldn't marry him now. Maybe she could, but she wouldn't, it would be a hasty mistake. She would find another way.

And perhaps there was a way. There was a way of finally going away from her brother, of making her own choices and living her own life.

Now the latent anger and vindictive spirit that had been sleeping inside her awoke with a furore and made her act.

She accepted Mr. Bancroft's shy, dim-witted proposal.

He was a very good sort of man, but very droll and stupid. He was agitated and mirthful when people listened to him and loved his sister very much. She was his ruler and he never went against her wishes. His sister had always thought Georgiana would be a good match for him. And he came to be infatuated with her because of it.

They met at a Fair held in Derbyshire. Introduced by Colonel Fitzwilliam when she was fourteen and he was sixteen, they became good friends and shielded themselves against the cold, rough world of adults and families.

Now he had come to love her more like he loved his sister and he decided that now was the time for him to marry and have a family.

He had not expected her to accept so willingly.

Miss Darcy had accepted solely so she could be his mistress, so he would wait on her hand and foot, so she would be the hand that guided him. Her significant, impeccable revenge on someone completely innocent.

She had a very well-rounded plan. She would become a married woman and get out of society as she should. She would live somewhere away from Derbyshire.

Then, she would visit Theodore. She would wait for him to be freed and they would be lovers. And then nothing could stop her, nothing could stop them.

These designs had been thought of for a long time. She had gone over her prospects very carefully and decided this was best.

There was only one pang in her heart now; Mary.

Georgiana Darcy was sitting in her room in Bath, thinking about Mary Bennet.

Oh, the many lies she had told her. Some of her letters had been true, some had not.

She recalled their first encounter. What would her friend think of her now? She was her only true friend, her closest, most beloved friend.

Perhaps she would feel cheated and betrayed and she would judge her. But Georgiana had to bear it. She was doing what she had to. Mary would never agree, to begin with.

In fact, everything she was doing was probably against Mary's better judgement. If she knew what she was really like, would she still like her? Would she still be her friend?

She had never told her the story of her soul. Maybe she had wanted Mary to guess. Maybe she had wanted to be a mystery, she had wanted to seem pleased and content. She hadn't wanted to be a tormented soul. Mary shouldn't know.

She had received her letter. But now it was too late.


	34. Chapter 34

_**Hi everyone, new chapter is ready! Mary's adventures continue, so I hope you'll keep on reading. Thanks ixi-shaj for the review, I share your feelings. **_

_**I hope you'll like this chapter and I hope you'll tell me what you think, no matter your opinion, it is always treasured. **_

_**Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year, have lots of fun with your families and hope Santa brings you everything you wish!  
**_

Chapter 34: Mr. Fowler Repents

Mary decided after some days of not receiving any news from Georgiana that she had better not let Theodore find out about the engagement. It would surely break his heart. She had to see whether it was all a misunderstanding or a cruel fancy of her friend.

For the time being, she waited for Mr. Darcy who had left for Bath.

This was no time for him to be travelling, what with his wife being so indisposed. She was taking care of her sister and suffering over her mother's death like a martyr.

But Lizzy wasn't one to complain verbally. Mary noticed the signs and tried to stay out of her way as much as she could.

One night, as they were all going to bed, she heard terrible screams in the rooms above. She instantly rose and put on her dress.

When she reached the chamber, she saw Lizzy was ushering everyone and going about frantic, calling the names of some servants. One of them was sent to fetch a midwife.

'Had mama been here we wouldn't be needing one,' she was saying frightened.

Mary tried to take her hand but she just turned away, entering the chamber once more.

'My husband has gone for a physician as well,' a voice spoke in the dark and Mary saw Kitty appearing from the shadows, wearing a ridiculously long night gown, nothing like the one she wore at home, when she was not married.

'I pray she's alright. She'll be alright, won't she, Mary?'

'Well, of course, Jane has always been strong. Remember when she got that dreadful cold at Netherfield?'

Just then the door of the chamber opened and Elizabeth ushered out a very gloomy looking Charles Bingley.

None of his protests could bend the sister's will. Whoever had heard of a man present there?! Elizabeth had said.

They all waited in the adjacent room which was another bedroom, but they did not mind.

'Where is papa?' Mary asked at one point.

'He is in his room, pacing it up and down…he said he shouldn't come close,' Kitty replied.

'Well, Charles, what would you like it to be?' Kitty asked.

'Kitty, that's not very…' Mary started but Charles waved his hand and smiled.

'It does not matter, I just hope she is alright.'

'Well, I hope it is a girl. I would love a little niece,' Kitty told him.

Mary nudged her to keep quiet, but Kitty only frowned and ignored her.

'But if it is a boy, then it shall be much better, like mama said…well she used to say it would be much better, it would secure the estate,' Kitty went on.

The Colonel came back after an hour and sat with them, just as worried and gloomy as Charles. He told them it had not been easy finding the physician, it was windy and rainy outside.

After many hours of waiting and worrying, they heard noise on the corridor. Charles and the Colonel ran out and Kitty pursued them but Mary stayed put, afraid of what they might find out.

But when she heard sounds of joy she came out happily and Elizabeth announced her that she had a nephew.

'Well, I don't mind if it's a boy really!' Kitty said once more, hugging Lizzy.

'May I go in and see them?' Charles asked.

'You may but be very quiet, she is resting, poor soul, it wasn't an easy birth,' Lizzy said smiling uneasily.

'Oh, our family is growing,' Kitty exclaimed excited, taking the Colonel's hands in hers. 'Soon we shall all have children and papa shall have many grandchildren and they shall fill these houses with their laughter. Oh, I do adore children.'

'Grandchildren, eh? I suppose I shall have that too.'

Mr. Bennet had come up to see how the birth had gone. He was smiling serenely.

'Papa,' Mary went to him and hugged him. 'It was alright. She is alright.'

'Well, goodness, Mary, you are trembling.'

'I thought…I thought He'd take her away too,' she whispered in his ear.

'As if I would let that happen,' he said cheerfully, though a tinge of sadness could be heard in his voice. 'I would never let that happen.'

It was morning now and the rays of sunshine after the rain were soothing and gentle. The early fog was dissipating and a white sun was rising from grey clouds. The green fields looked blue.

'Thank you,' Mary whispered, folding her hands in prayer.

After a while, they all went to see the child. It was a strong, sturdy boy with a shock of red hair. He would be called Richard, after Charles' grandfather.

Jane looked weak but very happy. She lay in her bed, caressed by all around her, her son and husband at her side and nothing to complain about.

Mary thought this was the perfect picture of happiness. Yet, it was the picture of happiness becoming to the Bingleys, the Bennets and the Darcys, but for some reason it was not _her _perfect picture.

She did not know what she was looking for, what else was requisite for her perfect picture. Having a child and a husband seemed like great treasures and they were sources of endless happiness, but she was looking for something else. She was looking for something beyond. The word beyond was ambiguously employed and therefore Mary did not know what she wanted.

She resolved to be happy for her sister and forget all about her nonsense. She would in time understand herself better, she told herself.

There was no celebrating feast given in honour of the child, because Mrs. Bennet was not there to celebrate with them and they could not be fully happy without her.

* * *

In less than five days Georgiana and Mr. Darcy arrived in Kent. They received a very cold welcome, especially from Elizabeth who above all felt wounded in her good sense and pride.

Miss Darcy was looking rather pale and tired, but altogether decided and undeterred from her plans of matrimony. She told everyone how Mr. Bancroft had not come to pay his congratulations for the newborn only because he had his business to arrange with his sister before the marriage.

She immediately demanded to see her nephew and spoke no more of her engagement, unless asked by others and even then reluctantly.

She had brought gifts for the newborn, in an attempt to assuage Lizzy's bad temper and had made herself very amiable to Jane and Charles.

Mr. Darcy had been very happy to hear of the birth and did not show any signs of current discontent at Georgiana's hasty arrangements. In fact, he had come from the journey half-pleased with himself and the matter at hand.

He had talked to Mr. Bancroft thoroughly and decided the best course was to marry in three months. However, Georgiana had protested, saying it would be a long time away from her fiancée and so darling and gentle was her speech and manner that she almost convinced her brother to have the wedding in a month, no matter the hard chiding he had given her for acting against his knowledge.

She insisted it would be a small gathering, a mere formality as not to insult the memory of the late Mrs. Bennet whom she respected. In this demand, she enlisted the help of Mr. Bancroft who consequently obliged and Mr. Darcy was finally convinced to have the wedding sooner, though he remained in some doubt.

Mary had tried on several occasions to talk to Georgiana about the union, but she had given her very short, puzzling answers, saying it was just another marriage of convenience like all the others.

At first, Mary did not understand what she meant.

'You are marrying him for convenience's sake? Georgiana! I cannot comprehend at all! Why would you need convenience? You have a fortune of twenty thousand and a great name and family. You were convinced you would unite with Theodore.'

'Yes, Mary, perhaps I said all those things, but I only meant I loved Theodore. Not that…I would marry him. It is very hard to marry someone like him in this position Mary, you must understand! Before, it might have been easier, but now my only road to independence is this marriage, you must understand me Mary!'

'Independence? But you are very independent Georgiana. You travel as you like and you may study whatever you please…'

'That barely suffices what I need, my dear friend. I know you will judge me, I was ready for that, I really was. I cannot tell you how I feel and how I am afraid I shall lose your friendship forever. That saddens me greatly. But I cannot act otherwise. Our lot does not have many opportunities besides marriage. I know you will say you have fewer opportunities, but you do not know what it is like to be a young lady "with fortune" and expectations to uphold.'

'No, I suppose I do not,' Mary answered weakly. 'But I do know when I see a very confused little girl trying to act like a wise woman.'

'I am not trying to be wise, Mary. I am trying to be practical. Oh, you must know I still cherish Theodore!'

'Indeed! How will you ever have the chance to love him like this?'

Georgiana looked down ashamed and chose not to answer.

Mary was not capable to assume that Georgiana could muster the boldness to act so unscrupulously and pragmatically as to acquire a lover.

And to her friend's bitter amusement, she remained in the dark throughout their conversation.

'Well, tell me then, how?! You shall sacrifice your love for the comfort of your own home? Is that the independence you crave? Because let me tell you, mama was just as _independent _and she was not happy.'

'And how do you know that?' Georgiana countered.

'Well! I saw her every day struggling and complaining and suffering on account of…'

'Women must always complain, otherwise men wouldn't love them, but I daresay your mother was not very miserable with her lot,' Georgiana replied.

'And now you turned philosopher I presume!'

'Philosopher no, but maybe I have learnt a lesson or two in my life,' she said proudly.

Mary was very frustrated that her friend was acting so strange and uncommon. She was another person from the one she had seen at Kitty's wedding.

What had come over her indeed?

Mary could not know that Georgiana had only dropped the veil of a good sister that she always wore and stepped out as the young woman who though cold and pragmatic, still kept her old ideals of love and freedom that she had harboured ever since she had been tamed and brought up as a young lady.

It was not that Georgiana Darcy was perverse or vengeful. Her spirit was not broken in its essence and her desires were about to be fulfilled. She was not even coquettish or prepossessing; she was only trying to break the invisible chains around her hands. The chains she thought she had ever since that fateful day in town when she had been so young. She was trying to live a life of her own.

She would not bear her brother any resentment. She would respect and cherish his care and she would visit his family and he hers, as all relatives did, but that would be all and she would be content.

It was too late to tell Mary of her misfortunes and her tribulations and it was too late to let out her frustrations on a poor soul. She would just be a sweet, gentle girl and take care of her friend and not let her know that she sometimes suffered and that she had suffered before Mr. Wickham's appearance.

After all, Mary had come to her at the right time, when she sorely missed Theodore. She had always wanted a sister, a female companion to replace her mother and Mary had serviced as a great friend indeed. Mary had let her be her child self again, if only for a while. She and Theodore managed to bring out the eleven year old girl in her heart.

But even free-spirited, somewhat unconventional Georgiana Darcy knew she could not have Theodore. She could not stoop so low, no matter what the circumstances. She had been raised in the spirit of the Darcys and though she could break many of the old principles, she could not go so far.

Why wouldn't Mary understand?

She was jealous of her sometimes, jealous of her life and her way of seeing things, so pristine and clear, but ever so naïve.

'Georgiana, you always told me you wanted love to guide you, didn't you?' Mary asked.

'Yes and love will guide me,' Georgiana said taking her friend's hands. 'Love will guide me very far, I know it will.'

'No, it's nonsense. How can love guide you far now?' Mary kept asking.

* * *

Soon the time came for Mr. Bennet and Mary to return to their old abode in Hertfordshire. They could not stay any longer, they had already stayed far too long and ignored the condition of another daughter, at Longbourn, a daughter that needed their assistance greatly, and it was unpardonable for a husband who had lost a wife and a sister who had lost a mother to stay any longer.

They paid many goodbyes and shed many tears for the child and their mother, but eventually, Lizzy, Jane and Mary parted, Mr. Bennet and Charles shook hands, Mr. Darcy bid them adieu and Kitty and the Colonel waved to them as father and daughter stepped into the carriage that exited the gates of the estate.

Mary looked back wistfully. Georgiana was standing on the steps, wearing a long floating, blue dress, her eyes sad but a small smile planted on her lips as she watched her friend leave.

Mary thought she looked like a fallen goddess that couldn't find her place on earth.

She was relieved though, to be returning home.

There was much work to be done at Longbourn. Now without a mistress, the house passed on to Mary, unwillingly. She was the eldest and therefore had to take some responsibility even though she had help from Mr. Hill and Bertha.

Lydia they found in a foul mood, but not fouler than they would have expected. She bellowed for days on end how they had forgotten all about her and how they were insensitive creatures, bared of any good sense, leaving a woman like her "in a house like that, with those servants and that suffocating air".

'Mrs. Lucas thought it was mighty fine to come and visit me and laugh at my expense. Her daughter too, what an insidious creature! She pretended to be worried about me and wanted to help me dress, but I know the old harps are probably thinking I've been rightfully punished because I married earlier and had a better husband, God rest his soul! I do not know why we waste any good tea on them,' she said heaving, as she was helped up by Mary who was giving her some gruel.

She lay in her bed, proud and majestic, though bulged and deformed as she was.

'I do not know how you manage to harbour these feelings right now,' Mary said amused.

'Well, I do what I can to keep my wits about, but it's not easy I tell you.'

'No, I am sure it cannot be.'

'If mama were here, I would be very relieved. She would know what to do. She would take care of me properly,' she said bitterly. 'But everyone I love must die, it appears! Pshaw! Is that the price for happiness? I will probably never get married either. Who will take me with little to no income and a child on my hands?! I suppose I shall end up an old maid! An old widow too! And I bet this child will be very spoilt and cry a great deal. And if it's a girl then she will probably end up an old maid too, for who would want _her_ as a wife? Unless she is very beautiful, like her mama or her grandmamma. That is my only hope.'

'Lydia, you will not end up an old maid and this child will be a blessing to you, be it girl or boy. Who knows, you might even find immense joy in taking care of it and you shall forget all your troubles.'

'Yes, yes, if I were you or Kitty maybe I would settle for that, but you know Mary I was never meant to be pleased like that. That is why I eloped. I have always been the most forward of the family. And papa has always castigated me for it. But he never saw what I saw. He never made mama feel loved.'

Mary put down the bowl, feeling rather tired. She had worked all day with Bertha and now she was feeling exhausted. But the words Lydia had just uttered rang in her ears like shattered crockery.

'I know. I know he didn't love her very much.'

'You do? And I thought you only had your head buried in books. But I suppose anyone could have noticed how disparaging a behaviour papa had.'

'You'd best mind your words, he is still your father and he has taken care of you all these years.'

'But has he ever taken me seriously? Has he ever taken _you_ seriously?'

Mary was about to protest, but Lydia guessed what she was about to reply.

'And you might think he has given you attention, but that was only after his "dear, sweet Elizabeth and Jane" left Longbourn. He did not mind you very much before, or me, or Kitty. He thought we were silly, because we weren't collected and gentle like Jane or witty and outspoken like Lizzy. I for one never envied them, but papa seemed to think we should.'

'But we are outspoken and we have our word to say…' Mary countered feebly.

'Yes, well, he never noticed that, because we could never outshine the eldest daughters.'

'He might have been right that we were silly,' Mary said pensively.

'Speak for yourself, Mary. I was never silly. Kitty perhaps was a tad silly, but I wasn't. I was only content with myself and my means. And I had my own plans and my own ideals. I wanted to dance with many handsome men and have a very comfortable home, full of servants to tend to my needs and rich dresses to wear and if that is a sin well, then God shall forgive me, but I can't find pleasure in anything else.'

'But you eloped with Wickham! What sort of rich dresses could you get out of that?!'

'A young girl still has the right to dream!' she said a little vexed that Mary had found a good argument. 'I wanted a handsome and rich man, but all the rich ones were ugly or pompous like Mr. Darcy, or they were blinded by beauties like Jane. So I had to settle for a handsome but poor one. I would get my own rich dresses. Even if I needed to work for them. I would not let anybody know.'

'Please do not distress yourself,' Mary said a bit worried, as Lydia was heaving a great deal harder.

'I am not distressing myself, I am telling the truth.'

Mary did not know what to think. On the one hand her sister was rather silly, but on the other hand she was a very odd, unruly woman. She was made of childish illusions and cynical conclusions all clashed into an opinionated, if not imposing female. She had to confess she had not given Lydia the credit of being this observant or lucid.

* * *

The very next day Longbourn received a very unexpected guest. Someone who Mary had thought would never pass their threshold.

'Mr. Fowler, Sir, at your service,' the man said as he paid his greetings to Mr. Bennet.

'I have come on urgent matters to Hertfordshire. And I have come to discuss with you, Sir, if you would be so willing as to receive me. The subject is a delicate one but I trust you shall hear me out, for I come here as a man who has repented his past mistakes.'

Mr. Bennet was very surprised by this speech and could do nothing but invite him in the parlour. Mary insisted she should stay and listen as well for she had the feeling she would be the subject.

To her surprise, Mr. Fowler did not protest. He seemed rather humble and feeble. He had half-recovered and he could walk, though quite slowly, with a cane. He was glad to be rested in an armchair.

He looked the image of an old, tired man, who, despite all odds, still kept a strange, aloofness by him which could be taken for a personal charm.

'Should Mary call for some tea? Do call for some tea, Mary,' Mr. Bennet said.

'Oh, please do not trouble yourself. I would like to say what I must say and tea cannot help me.'

Mary waited patiently, though rather nervously for him to begin.

'I do hope you have recovered a bit more. My daughter has taken great trouble to visit you,' Mr. Bennet said rather sourly, remembering the circumstances in which his daughter had left Kent to go visit him.

'I did not approve her leave whole-heartedly, but if it has rendered you any good…' he continued.

'Very much, Sir. She has been an ailment to me like no other. But more an ailment to the mind and soul than to the body. Miss Bennet helped me remember how I was when I was younger, she helped me make the decision to change myself.'

'Indeed! To change yourself, Sir?'

'Yes. Ever since I met Miss Bennet she has managed to change me a bit, and now I think I am ready to take my charge and be a good man for once in my life at least.'

'Well, that is good news. Have you come all this way to thank her?' he asked surprised.

'Yes, I admit, I have come for that, but for another reason as well,' he said gravely. 'I have come to take responsibility. Miss Bennet told me I should mend what I have done wrong and that is what I wish to do now. For I believe she is in the right.'

Mr. Bennet remained quiet, more and more puzzled by this strange man.

'I have come with a marriage proposal.'

Mr. Bennet's eyebrows rose considerably as he looked the man up and down.

Mary's cheeks were now as red as apples and she was doing her best not to get up and run out of the room.

But Mr. Bennet did get up.

'To my daughter?'

'Yes, to your daughter.'

'Goodness, this is quite unexpected…' he said turning to Mary.

'I would like to ask the hand of Lydia Wickham, Sir, if I may.'

'Lydia?!' both Mr. Bennet and Mary exclaimed at once.

'What business have you with my youngest, Sir?' Mr. Bennet asked suspiciously. 'As I know, you two have never been in company, have you?'

Mary could not believe her ears. Mr. Fowler wanted to marry Lydia!

'Alas, we have been brought together a couple of times, Sir,' he said getting up with great difficulty.

'I know I do not seem the right man to provide for her, but you must believe me, I will take great care of her. I should be her rightful husband.'

'And perhaps you might tell me, Sir, why I should give you her hand so willingly?' Mr. Bennet asked.

Mr. Fowler looked at Mary and then at Mr. Bennet and she saw fear in his eyes for the very first time.

'Sir, pray…what I should tell you might be preposterous but I beg you to listen. I believe…I believe I am the father of her child.'


	35. Chapter 35

_**Well, it has been over a year and I have absolutely no excuse for this monumentally late update. I could say school and college filled up my time, but I would be lying, because truth be told, I had time and I purposely let this story go for a while, because I felt a bit lost. It's ironic that this should happen now, when I am close to finishing it. But I almost stopped writing right towards the end. And then I realized I was being stupid and that I loved this story too much, despite its glaring imperfections and inconsistencies. And that I would do anything to give it a proper ending.**_

_**So here I am, back again, writing the adventures of my beloved and misunderstood Mary Bennet. I know she is not mine, per se, she is the creation of the brilliant Jane Austen, but I feel she has become mine too. I have spent many nights with her and I have dreamt many dreams with her and she's become the heavy-handed, awkward, pedantic, innocent, naive, brave, intelligent, funny heroine I somehow always wanted to be.**_

_**And I know she's far from what I thought I would write her like, because this entire story should have been written better. Perhaps, after I finish it, a rewrite would turn her into a proper heroine.**_

_**That remains to be seen.**_

_**For now, I am happy to be writing about her again.**_

_**All I can say is that I am deeply touched that some of you have not forgotten this story, no matter how convoluted it has become. Your amazing support truly made a difference. Thank you all for your lovely and kind reviews, for encouraging me to continue, despite the imperfect nature of this story. Thanks for sticking with Mary and with me. I am very grateful for all reviews, anonymous or not.**_

_**I hope you don't have to reread too much to keep track of what has happened (I had to, but I'm the author so that's a must). I also hope you'll like this chapter. This is the big one, where the lies are revealed.**_

_**It will be hard to swallow everything, but I have had this chapter in my head ever since I started this story. I know, hard to believe, but it's true. I had planned this for a while. Of course along the way things changed drastically, but some things stuck.**_

_**I dread the fact that there are some loose ends, but that is almost inevitable, since I am such a sloppy writer. So I am quite sure there are some inconsistencies I'll have to answer for. I tried tying everything up together, but this is a pretty big story, have you noticed? It's the biggest thing I've ever written, so naturally, there will be some omissed details. That is no excuse, I know. I will go back and reread everything, but I just really wanted to continue writing and finish this wonderful adventure (it has been wonderful for me at least). Like I said, after I'm done, I will probably rewrite it and tie up all loose ends. **_

_**I hope you'll stick for the rewrite too and hopefully it will happen.**_

_** I also hope you won't be too shocked by the reveals in this chapter and that they won't be too farfetched. If you go back and read some things you'll realize most of them make sense and the ones that don't we can discuss in the reviews, because that is what they are for. **_

_**Please let me know what you think, whether you loved it or abhorred it. I would like to know :)**_

_**P.S. This is not the last chapter, or among the last. There's still a bit more left for Mary and James, especially Mary. But yes, we are nearing the end.  
**_

Chapter 35: The Truth

'I know this comes as a great shock to you and I know you must think I am insane, but please, allow me to tell my story, and then judge me as you will,' Mr. Fowler pleaded, standing in front of an appalled Mary and Mr. Bennet.

They both felt too overwhelmed to prevent him from saying anything. Therefore, Mr. Fowler continued.

'From a very young age, I was inclined towards ominous affairs. I perceived very early how one can make money easily and enjoy oneself without the tedious bother of scruples. And so it was that I followed my path without seeking any moral boundaries or support. I was a leaf in the wind's path. I would see where destiny led me and go from there. I had no steady purpose. I got into easy business and made and spent money like it was nothing. I would do many things for a pretty sum, but I would usually spend it on nonsense. My turn, however, came when I joined a theatre company for a short while. I was an actor. My company secured three nights at a baroness' house. She was very wealthy and a widow, to top it all. She and her brother, I later discovered, were the relatives of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the offspring of some distant cousin of hers. The baroness hired me as help and in time, I became her lover. The brother died in a fatal horsing accident. I threatened to leave her unless she gave me what I wanted. With the help of my devoted baroness, I assumed his position. I took his name and all that came with. Using his good name, I got further into trading and made a small fortune for myself…'

Mary interrupted him momentarily and asked the logical question:

'Your real name isn't Fowler, is it?' she asked, her voice trembling.

He bowed his head in what looked like shame.

'This is the man we were acquainted with for so many months?' Mr. Bennet asked in disbelief. 'It cannot be!'

'But it is, Sir. And I pray you listen further, for there is more to tell. I was getting tired of living with the baroness, for I did not love her anymore and my patience was running out, but I did not wish to leave her, after all she had done to me. She was very devoted to me, you see. And I owed her my new identity. So, I purposely joined the militia, knowing it would be a skilful escape. She understood my inclinations and admired me for my courage and loyalty to my country. I did not contradict her. I left for the North quickly and told her I would be back shortly. I never saw her again. I received news she had died of solitude and grief, but I had already half-forgotten her and I told myself it wasn't my fault she had no one else. I had to live my own life, didn't I?'

Mr. Bennet had already sat down again, immersed in deep thought, a deep line tracing his aged forehead.

Mary was standing beside him, holding his hand tightly.

'During my stay in Newcastle, I happened to meet Mr. Wickham and his lovely wife Lydia. We liked each other from the very start, but your sister was not bold enough to go over her husband's word, even though our feelings were strong. He did not treat her kindly or even show a morsel of affection. He ignored her whenever he could and bragged to the officers that she had been an easy game. He was also a gambler and a drunk who spent his money on anything else but his family. She was still faithful to him, however. She only flirted with me and wrote me tender letters, but nothing else.'

'It was then that a friend of mine proposed a curious business. The men were lacking in female companionship and he had found several Scottish girls crossing the border and seeking employment. He suggested we hire the girls and pay them money for the officers' pleasure. We would make our own money by charging the officers a small fortune. We knew they were desperate and would pay no matter what. So, my friend and I rented a house on the lower ends of town and we settled our 'business' there. It was a foul, foul thing, but it made us a small fortune. When we saw how successful we'd become over night, we thought it would be madness to cease. We hired more women, this time English. That is when Mrs. Wickham became privy of our new employment and very jealous of my dwelling among so many women. I tried to appease her, explaining to her the reasons for my unpleasant affairs, but she would not hear it. She told me she had fallen in love and I was sadly unworthy of her. She told me Wickham would never love her and she would just live a miserable life, but if we ran away together, everything might be like before, before she had married such a dreadful man. I confess I did not discourage her. I told her I loved her, but that I couldn't run away with her, that my life was here. I kissed her one night, against her will. After that, she came to visit me at the house my friend and I rented. She was not well seen there, but she came either way, even if I told her it was clear madness. I warned her people would talk and her reputation would be soiled. Whoever saw a married woman crossing a brothel? But she didn't seem to care anymore. She told me she had had enough, that she had dreamt of another life and that if she could not make it now, she never would.'

Mary's eyes filled with tears. She recalled what her sister had told her only earlier, about the life she had dreamt of and the life she had been stuck with.

'I couldn't stop her. People started talking of course. There were dreadful rumours. But the most dreadful one came as a blow for me. They said Lydia had become one of my girls, working for the officers. It was unthinkable that they could say such things about a married woman. But they did. Mr. Wickham found out soon enough. It was inevitable. I thought he would be furious. I even made plans to take Lydia away, fearing he would do away with her. But much to my shock, when he learnt how successful I was in my business and he being out of pockets for quite some time, he told Lydia he would spare her if she brought some much needed money into the house. He said he would not shame and slander her if she did what was right to her husband. He had no way of knowing she was only coming there for my sake. I already loved Lydia too much to have her bear such misery. We agreed I would give her a sum of money each week until we could both run away.'

'Oh, what wretchedness!' Mr. Bennet exclaimed, shaking his head.

'It was a dreadful situation. And poor Lydia was bearing it as best as she could. She couldn't give me up anymore, not even if she wanted to. She was bound to me for the sum of money and her happiness depended on me, because she thought she would never be happy again unless we were united. I asked about her family several times, but she insisted you would never be able to understand her and that you despised her.'

Mary shook her head in grief.

'Life went on for two more months. Wickham had now given up providing for his wife, seeing as she was doing a 'good job' herself. He was angry though, because the officers were laughing behind his back. They called him a cuckold. He drowned his shame in liquor. And he continued playing, not caring whether he made much debt, for he felt sure there was nothing left in life but these small pleasures. He had got a wife through avarice, he had lost her because of avarice. When the debt became too much to bear, that is when he applied to Mr. Prowler, his cousin.'

'Mr. Prowler? Of course, Lydia's letter!' Mary exclaimed.

'I had heard of him from Lydia. He was a good sort of man, though he was very proud and self-absorbed. He came eventually, after hearing Wickham was about to be thrown in jail. But he was not welcome. All Wickham wanted was money. Prowler, as I suspected, was loath of his connection to this man, because all his life he had probably only asked for money. Lydia told me Prowler made a deal with Wickham. He would solve all his pecuniary problems, if Wickham swore he would leave him alone for ever. Prowler even made him sign a contract. That was too much for Wickham to bear. He said he would not be shamed into such contrivances. He told Prowler he didn't need his help, that his wife could make more money for him. When Prowler heard what Wickham had made Lydia do and not knowing that she was safe of these accusations, he threatened to throw Wickham out of the militia. Lydia told me they had a terrible fight and Wickham was quite injured as a result. But Prowler did keep his word. He got the family out of debt and Lydia signed the contract, instead of her husband. Prowler was not very pleased with her actions and he let her know it. He told her she should be ashamed of what she had done and that she should seek to be a good wife. Lydia was very angry to be told this by a stranger who knew nothing of her misery. She swore to loathe him, even if he had helped her.'

Mary was now pacing the room in agitation, an expression of torment written clearly across her face.

'So then, Lydia's letter was only libel! I should have known! She was just angry with Mr. Prowler!'

'Indeed, whatever Lydia wrote to you must have been in a fit of passion or anger, she was not very well after Mr. Prowler left. She blamed me for not having helped for, for having let Prowler solve her problems. She told me it was now or never. We had to leave. Her sister Jane had already written to her about the baby. She knew she couldn't come see her family now and she told me none of you must ever know she had left Wickham. So I made a plan. I arranged it so that Wickham left for the riot in Ireland. It would give us ample time to leave, I thought. But by now I was aware Lydia was with child. I was certain it was mine. And I knew if Wickham returned, we couldn't marry and that the child would be his. I couldn't have that. I had already done too much to give up now. I couldn't have my plans foiled. So, I paid a couple of men to dispose of him in Ireland. I was sure they would do their job.'

'You planned Wickham's death?' Mary asked hoarsely.

Mr. Fowler sighed and ran a hand over his face in exhaustion.

'I did. For my dear Lydia, I did.'

'And yet, you two did not marry,' she continued.

He nodded his head gravely.

'I thought there was no point in eloping now. Lydia had already gone through that. And I didn't want that. I wanted to have a proper wedding. I wanted to have a proper courtship too. I wanted to meet her family and ask for her hand. I was getting very tired of the life I had been leading and I was growing quite old too. It was time for me to take this step. I told Lydia we should go our separate ways. She should go back to her family and present herself as a widow and when the time was right, after I had settled all my affairs and bought a good house, I would come for her. That is when I purchased Huntington Park. I thought it would be well to be close to the Darcys since Lydia had told me her sister Elizabeth was married to Mr. Darcy and it would be a good alliance. It was around that time that Lady Catherine wrote to me, wishing me to visit. I had half forgotten I was still playing the part of her relative. I had to oblige. I did not wish to be revealed. I soon understood the purpose of my visit. Lady Catherine was angry that her daughter had not married Mr. Darcy and upon inspecting my fortune, my title and my house, she considered it would be a good match. Even she conceded her daughter was unruly, dificult and plain and would not rise to any higher purpose. Of course, I did not wish to marry the girl under any circumstances. I had already met you and your sisters. And I was afraid of Mr. Prowler's immediate presence. I knew he did not know me very well, but he had heard rumours from his time in Newcastle. He remained silent, though wary. I felt a bit caged. There was Lady Catherine in one corner and Mr. Prowler in the other. I tried making her ladyship understand I was not going to marry her daughter, but she was very adamant. She saw my reluctance as a betrayal to her family and an irrational move on my part. She began to suspect me and started asking questions about the baroness. That is when you came into my view, Mary Bennet.'

'You were young and innocent and, I beg your father pardon my words, so virginal and pure. You embodied everything I wasn't and would never be. You were also very well-read and highly educated. I found great pleasure in talking to you. In my early days I had read a great deal and I finally had someone to talk to. An equal of some sorts, if you will. You were like a breath of fresh air I sorely needed. You were simple and so very naïve. I was always astounded by your tolerance, but I assumed the tolerance was the result of ignorance. I let Lady Catherine know I had my eyes set on you. It would be a wholesome thing in her eyes, for she did not dare to speak ill of those who were humble and knew their station. It was the reason she could not really insult Mrs. Lucas.'

'So, you pretended to make love to me for the sake of appearances,' Mary said emptily.

'It was more than that, Mary! You were like a younger sister to me. I had found a good soul. I rarely came across someone like you and I hadn't been around a noble character in a long time. Even Lydia, bless her soul, was not without many faults. You know now how much I regret ever having tricked or jilted you for I did come to care for you like a sister, believe me.'

'You did not jilt me. I was never in love. But I did feel betrayed, because you lied to me and played with my affections,' Mary replied.

'I know and for that I am deeply remorseful.'

'What about Anne de Bourgh?' Mary asked coldly.

'Ah, she was a mistake! An awful mistake! She is a mischievous girl! But I will not put the blame on her, no, no. I spent a great deal of time with her when I visited Lady Catherine and I soon became aware she was a deceitful creature. I told you in the letters I wrote you that she was not who she appeared to be. She pretended to be ill and sickly all the time, but she was actually very sly and slovenly. I am a man led by my instincts, I confess, and though I do love your sister dearly, I let myself be charmed by her sensuous nature and I did not restrain myself for the sake of my loved one. I acted like a miserable hound. I indulged in pleasures that should have been forbidden. And I sorely regret it.'

'But Lydia had already joined us when you were in the arms of Anne de Bourgh!' Mary protested, scandalized.

'Oh, Mary Bennet!' he bellowed, taking her small hands into his. 'I told you in my letters. Anne had run away from home for me. I had to give her shelter. I felt, I felt it was my duty. I cannot stand a woman crying. Oh, but I am a miserable man! I should have despised Anne!'

Mary pulled her hands immediately.

'No. You shouldn't have despised her. She was young and foolish. But you were not. You should have despised yourself.'

'But I do! I do, Mary! You must believe me!'

'And did you see my sister while we were at Pemberley?' Mary asked sharply.

'I confess that I did. I had missed her terribly and she had missed me. But you must believe me, Anne meant nothing to me.'

'It doesn't matter whether she did. You do not love Lydia as you say you do, if you had the heart to make love to another.'

'Miss Bennet, how can I explain my affections to you? How dreadfully wrong I have acted? But love is not easily explained. You cannot say I do not love your sister, for I do and I have done many things for her. Perhaps my love is not perfect and absolute like that of Mr. Bingley, or Mr. Darcy, but it is love nevertheless. It is a stained love, a love that deserves no pity, but a love that has lived on. I feel it even now.'

'I do not care to hear about your love. I am sure it is a convoluted thing in your mind. Tell me, how did you and my sister meet?'

'I am ashamed to say we had the help of Mrs. Woble, Father Woble's honourable wife.'

'I suspected as much, after she told me she would keep Lydia's secret,' Mary surmised.

'When you...discovered my wretched affair with Anne de Bourgh, so did your sister, Lydia. And she could never forgive my inconstancy. She could not see I still loved her.'

'I wonder at you thinking she could!' Mary exclaimed.

'She told me I would never see her again and that I shouldn't look for her anymore. That she was tired of being cheated, tired of looking for love. She said she was done with love. She would not hear my pleas. I was left broken-hearted. And I cursed my existence and everything I had done. I had no way of reaching her. I realized my only hope was you, Mary Bennet.'

'Me?'

'Yes. I knew you were such a kind soul and that you were the only one inclined to forgive me. I began writing you letters in the hope that I would receive some sign from you or your sister. Those letters might have been foolish and laden with sentimentalism, but I meant many things I wrote there.'

'You wrote that you desired to inspire certain feelings in me, that you wished me to love you,' Mary told him accusingly.

'And I did wish I could seal the affection of such a gentle soul! But I never meant for you to love me, Mary. I was only desperate. I wanted to be forgiven, I wanted you to feel pity and perhaps see that my intentions towards you had not been ill. I wrote some things now I regret, but I wrote them in a fit of desperation. I had no one left. I thought you might appreciate my honesty regarding you.'

'But it wasn't honesty. It was only the machinations of a troubled spirit. You claim that I am such a good soul, that I am so naive and innocent, but that is just an excuse, Mr. Fowler. You know I have my flaws and that I could not have saved you. You chose to see me only as you saw fit. You had no regard for who I really was,' Mary told him.

'Because I never was as pure and innocent as you liked to think. No one is, Mr. Fowler. Men are not in black and white. They come in all shades. And calling me white just for your sake was selfish,' she continued.

'You are wise indeed, Mary and humble,' he said, bowing his head.

'I am neither. I am only different from you. That does not make me an angel. But you are too blind to see. People tell you who they really are, but you choose to ignore them.'

'Then what must I do now, Miss Bennet? I want to see you as you really are! I want Lydia to see _me_ as I really am! But even I can't see myself as I am. How could she? There are times when I forget my real name. There are times when I do not know who I am. And I come to think I never knew.'

'You have lost your identity, Mr. Fowler, you must strive to get it back,' Mary said.

'Oh, good God, to think I tried to end my life!' he exclaimed.

Mary looked surprised.

'I did, Miss Bennet. I told you I had had a hunting accident, but it was a lie. After I failed to do away with myself, I grew tired of everything and everyone. That is when I called you again, one last time. I thought, if she doesn't come now, then everything is over. But you did come. And I bless you for that. I bless you. Because I meant what I said. You helped me change.'

'The lies you told me,' Mary began. 'You told me you loved Anne and that you asked for her hand, but had been rejected. You said you only wanted peace. You said I had been such an inspiration, that my principles had helped you realize your mistakes.'

'But they were not all lies, Mary! I spoke the truth when I said you inspired me!'

'Mr. Fowler,' she began sternly, 'you did not change because of me. Circumstances and misfortune made you realize your own wrong-doings. You would be surprised how pain and suffering change men's hearts. It was never because of me. You chose to make a false blessing out of me.'

'Why do you speak so, Miss Bennet? Why do you deny your good influence? Why do you speak against your noble heart?'

'On the contrary, I speak according to it. I do not wish to receive your compliments or your admiration, because I never did anything to deserve them. My good heart was never something singular. You should have strived to be good yourself, not put your faith in someone else's goodness. I make mistakes too. My heart is not all that good. I...I have wronged many people myself,' she said, thinking of James with a heavy heart.

'You should have never sought light in my heart. You should have sought light in yours,' she concluded, feeling burdened by the new knowledge she had been imparted.

'I still say you are a blessed soul,' he said quietly. 'And I wish you all the happiness in the world. No one deserves it more.'

'Oh, there are plenty who do. I am merely a sinner who has the luxury of not knowing her sins,' she said, looking at her father who was now considerably shaken.

He had been strangely quiet during his speech. And his face showed the shock, anger and disappointment any father would feel.

'Do you remember, you told me I must do my duty and I must try to repair what I've done,' he said, smiling sadly.

She nodded reclutantly.

'And I told you I had made a decision,' he added. 'And now I am acting on it.'

'You have come for Lydia,' Mary surmised.

'I know she does not wish to see me. But I will not leave until I do. I will beg you on my knees, although I hardly can. But I must tell her everything. I must have her forgive me. Because I still love her. And I fear I will only love her for the rest of my wretched existence.'

Mr. Bennet rose himself suddenly.

'I cannot allow that, Mr. Fowler,' he said sternly. 'You are not worthy of my daughter.'

Mary's eyes widened in shock.

'She has been a torment, it is true. And she has never done well by me. She shamed me. And she made a fool of me. She did not listen to her family and she turned her happiness into misery. But, she is still my daughter. And she will always be my daughter. And no matter how cruel we have both been, I still love her and I still see goodness in her, the kind you do not possess.'

Mr. Fowler turned his face away in distress.

'Father...' Mary said, hugging him tightly.

'I will not have you hurt my Lydia anymore!' Mr. Bennet bellowed. 'From what you tell me, she has suffered enough. She does not need the likes of such a scoundrel to make her happy!'

'I beg of you, Sir...'

'For all that you have done to my family, to my poor girls,' he continued, gripping Mary's hand, 'you are no longer welcome in this house. Leave us and never return with your poison.'

Mary felt her heart rejoice to hear her father speak so bravely.

'What is all the commotion about?' a soft voice was heard on the corridor.

The door suddenly flew open and Lydia Wickham entered the parlour, limping slightly.

When her eyes landed on Mr. Fowler, she stopped dead in the middle of the room. Her body remained as still as wax. Her breath stopped in her throat. Only her eyes betrayed the deep emotions she was feeling. The turmoil was too great for her.

Mary ran to her and put her arms around her for support, but Lydia pushed her away.

'Harold...?'

'It is me,' he said, trembling all over. His eyes were in tears. And his face broke into a hopeless smile.

'Please Lydia, go back to your room!' her father urged her.

But Lydia did not move.

'Mary, please, take your sister upstairs! She is not well!'

'No. I want to speak to him,' she said coldly.

'But Lydia...'

'I must speak to him,' she insisted, her eyes ablaze.

'Lydia, listen to your father!' Mr. Bennet bellowed.

'No. You cannot make me. Mary, if you touch me, I will scream,' she said, her eyes still fixed on Mr. Fowler.

'He has told us everything, Lydia,' Mary told her.

Lydia stared at Mary briefly.

'You don't know anything,' she said, shaking her head. 'You don't know.'

'We know enough.'

'Please, I must speak to him, alone,' she begged them quietly. 'Please.'

'Lydia, I will not...' Mr. Bennet began.

'Father,' Mary intervened, 'we should listen to her. It is her wish.'

'But Mary,' he protested.

'I know. But her life isn't in our hands anymore,' she told him, caressing his face softly. 'Please.'

Mr. Bennet sighed and gave his daughter and Mr. Fowler one last look.

'I'll have you out of this house, after this,' he told the latter, pointing his cane at him.

Mary carried him out of the parlour, holding his hand tightly.

They waited for more than an hour in her father's study, talking quietly of everything that had happened. They were both exhausted and out of breath and there was nothing either of them could say to alleviate their pain.

But they felt a strange sense of relief to finally know the truth.

Mary rushed to her room to get something. When she returned, she saw that Mr. Fowler and Lydia had finished talking, because there was no sound coming from the parlour.

When she dared to open the door quietly, she found Lydia and Mr. Fowler in a tight and warm embrace, crying on each other's shoulders like babies.

She had never really seen her sister cry, not like this.

She had abandoned herself completely. Her head was on his chest and his face was hidden in her hair.

Her chest heaved from the silent sobs, while Mr. Fowler's eyes swam in quiet, unshed tears.

He held her hair as if it was his air and she held his hand as if it were her only salvation.

Mary felt herself torn.

On the one hand, she wanted Mr. Fowler out of their lives, where he couldn't hurt her sister anymore, but on the other hand, she saw how happy they were together, how their love was stronger than she had suspected, no matter how imperfect it was.

She did not know which way would be better for her sister.

She knew that in the long run, she would have to let her choose.

And she knew exactly what choice she would make.

A hand was pressed against her shoulder. She turned and found her father staring at the two lovers embracing.

He had an expression of futility on his face.

'What shall we do about them, Mary? How will I defend my honour?'

Mary remained silent.

'How can I allow him to marry her after everything? He must be punished! He cannot be part of this family, after everything he has done!'

'There is no family left papa, only you and I,' Mary said, smiling weakly. 'And he will never be part of that.'

'But we have Lydia too, we have...'

'Papa. We never really had her. Lydia belongs with him now,' she said, looking at them.

'I cannot have that! I cannot! She is my daughter, she is my little girl. She is...she is so much like her mother,' he said, tears welling up in his eyes.

'I know. But you must let her go, because you love her.'

'I can't accept that! I can't accept him, I can't have him as her husband!'

'We don't have to accept him or forgive him, father, but I think she has,' Mary continued. 'And her decision matters more.'

'But I am her father! And she is my daughter!'

'No. She is Mrs. Wickham now. And the mother of that man's child,' Mary told him, staring into his eyes deeply.

With those fatal words, Mr. Bennet's strength seemed to finally give up and his protests fell to the ground, along with his tears. He was done. He couldn't hear anymore. He was powerless against fate.

Mary pulled his chin up.

'We have each other father. It will be alright.'

She did not believe her own words, but she had to make her father believe, for his sake.

* * *

Before Mr. Fowler left their house that evening, promising to return sharply the next day, Mary followed him outside for a couple of last words.

'I wanted to give you this,' she told him, as they stood in front of the Longbourn gates.

Mary pressed a small letter into his hand.

He opened it in puzzlement. He found a note inside. He read it out loud.

' "You might just find the lily in the ferns, if you but look closely." Well, it's a nice choice of wording,' he opinioned.

'You do not recognize it? You sent me this note along with my handkerchief when you were trying to win my affections in Kent,' Mary told him.

'What handkerchief do you speak of?'

'The one embroidered with my name in gold,' she said, frowning. 'I had lost it, but you returned it to me with this note. Don't you recall?'

Mr. Fowler started at her amazed.

'I am very sorry, Miss Bennet,' he began meekly, 'but I recall no such handkerchief. And I assure you, I did not write that note, nor did I find your handkerchief. I am very sorry. It must have been someone else.'

'But who could it have been beside you?' she asked, shaking her head.

'Perhaps some other admirer,' he said, smiling sadly.

'I must go now,' he said at length. 'I... I shall come back tomorrow. Miss Bennet, I do not know how to thank...'

'You've thanked me enough. And as long as Lydia is happy...'

'I shall make her the happiest creature alive, that I promise you with all my heart.'

'I don't need your promises, _she_ is the object of your love. Now go, before we change our mind. You have done enough for one day.'

'I thank you again. My happiness has never been greater. We shall be married soon,' he added shyly.

'Yes, you shall be married to her. But from that day on, you must never cross our house again. It is my father's strongest wish,' she told him, folding her hands.

'I...it pains me terribly, but I will respect it. And I will take care of my wife and child as best as I can.'

Mary nodded her head. 'Pray that you do.'

'I'm afraid God won't hear my prayers now,' he said miserably.

'He will. He always does. No matter who is praying.'

'You think so?'

'Yes, I do. It is His nature. But _I_ do not wish to hear from you again.'

With that, she turned her back on him and walked towards her house without sparing another glance in his direction.

Mr. Fowler stood in front of the gates for a full minute, watching Miss Bennet with a puzzled eye. He wondered how she and Lydia could be related. He was sure he had not met more different sisters.

* * *

When she shut the door behind her, Mary saw Lydia standing in the parlour, stirring the fire with the poker.

'You should go to bed,' she began tiredly. 'It has been a very long day.'

Lydia walked up to Mary and took her hand in hers.

'I know you will never forgive me. But I love him. I truly do. And when we were at Pemberley, it was torture to see you two together. But I didn't say anything. I went and saw him every day. And that was enough.'

'Should I admire your sacrifice?'

'No, but you must not condemn me. People do horrid, horrid things for love. Sometimes, to the people they love the most.'

Mary stared at her warily.

'What do you mean, Lydia?'

Her sister took a large breath and dropped her hand.

'We were going to leave Pemberley. But I couldn't. I had to stay with him a while longer. I...I was mad with love...'

'Lydia...'

'I gave Jane the wine. I thought she would grow sick. And we would stay longer.'

There were no words to describe the horror Mary Bennet felt upon hearing such a confession.

With a swift movement, she slapped her sister hard, right across her face.

Lydia turned her other cheek. Mary slapped her again with passion.

'I will leave as soon as I can,' Lydia whispered, her cheeks red.

Mary could not look at her.

'I will always regret what I have done,' Lydia said, as she saw her sister leave the room. 'I will never be happy.'

Mary turned towards her with an empty expression on her face.

'I know,' she said simply.

* * *

As she sat in her bed awake that night, Mary looked over the note again and again, trying to understand how she could have been so wrong.

How could she have wronged James so heavily? How could she have been so blind?

Why had she trusted her foolish sister? Why had she ever believed her?

And why had everything gone so horribly wrong?

As these questions swam in her head, filling her with guilt, she realized all too late that Mr. Fowler had been right. She had been stupidly naive.

And with that realization, she understood who had written that note.

'James.'


End file.
